


My Master Ed

by BlueTeller



Series: BlueTeller's FMA stories [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: (Spoiler Alert: he gets some), (because seriously is there a rule about that I couldn't find it so I'm sticking to it), (he's like 400 years ahead of everyone okay), (is it fixing if you're re-writing the whole thing?), (sort of), Amestris, Angst, BAMF Edward Elric, Cultural Differences, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Edward Elric Needs a Hug, Family, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt/Comfort, Ishval, Ishvalan religion, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Platonic Relationships, Saving Xerxes, Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Trauma, Using Xerxesian as opposed to Xerxian as a word, Xerxes | Cselkcess, Xing, Young Van Hohenheim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 83,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTeller/pseuds/BlueTeller
Summary: Slave number Twenty Three didn't know what to make of his new Master. The strange boy was nothing like other slave owners. Short on both height and temper, yet strangely kind to him, Master Ed seemed to know something about him that he didn't himself. Just what was it?(The story where time-traveling to fix the past doesn't work quite as Edward Elric intended, and lost family bonds are reclaimed. Van Hohenheim and Xerxes-centric.)
Relationships: Edward Elric & Van Hohenheim
Series: BlueTeller's FMA stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141709
Comments: 39
Kudos: 188





	1. A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slave Number 23 goes about his normal life. Then, everything changes with the entrance of one very strange brat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the Third Day after Christmas  
> Blue Teller gave to you  
> "My Master Ed" chapters  
> Number 1 & 2~!
> 
> I'm finally re-posting this on AO3! Took a while, but I'm finally here.  
> By the time I repost all of it, you'll get a brand new chapter as a New Year's gift! So please stick around :)

"Twenty Three!"

A boy with long golden hair and eyes of the same color stopped sweeping. He looked up from the floor. Andal, slave number Nineteen, stood in the entrance to Master's laboratory. Unlike Twenty Three, Andal had had a name, because he wasn't born a slave. He was sold by his father at the age of seven to pay family debts. Twenty Three's mother was a slave, so by the law, he was one as well and his old Master didn't think a name was necessary.

It was a common practice among slave owners. Names didn't make slaves more hard working, or more obedient, or more eager to please their Masters, or less prone to fall ill and die. Which was all they cared about. Every slave was given a decent place to sleep, a set of clothes, a wash in the evening (Masters didn't like their slaves all dirty and smelly) and two good meals a day, but that was about it.

It didn't bother Twenty Three that much. He never had a name, so he couldn't miss it. He didn't need one to do his work. The teenager's ambitions weren't exactly high. He wanted to become a trusted slave in his Masters eyes, to get new privileges and less exhausting chores. Every slave wanted that.

Twenty Three looked at Andal, wondering why he was interrupting him in the middle of sweeping. He got this job a short while ago and barely got started.

"What is it, Nineteen?"

"It's Andal, dunderhead," Nineteen snarled. He never liked Twenty Three. The two could never get along and often got into fights when Master wasn't looking. "Master is calling you."

"W-why?" Twenty Three couldn't help but gulp nervously. He glanced at a bandage on his left arm. The last time Master called him, which was only yesterday, he made a deep cut in his skin and collected his blood, saying he needed it for an experiment. But Master said he wouldn't be needing any more. So why was he being called now? The slave could only hope they weren't going to cut his other arm.

"A guest was asking about you. Master said to make yourself look presentable before you come."

Twenty Three blinked. A guest? Asking about him? What interest could anybody have in _him_? He was just an ordinary slave, there was nothing special about him. But he didn't question it.

Twenty Three was given a wash, a new set of clothes and even some fragrant oils. This was unusual. He couldn't remember if he ever received such treatment. Was Master's guest a rich nobleman, or perhaps the king's counselor? It would make sense. Master was a royal scientist, an alchemist, so he knew a lot of important people.

He hissed quietly when he changed the bandage. The injury wasn't deep, but it was still fresh. He hoped that Master's guest wouldn't mind it.

Finally, Twenty Three was ready and entered his Master's chamber, his eyes on the floor.

"You called me, Master?"

"Ah, Twenty Three, you're here at last."

Twenty Three dared to lift his eyes, to see who the mysterious guest was. What he saw was nothing like he expected.

Sitting on an upholstered chair was a boy about his age, his arm and legs heedlessly crossed. He was wearing a standard Xerxesian robe, nothing fancy, one of those you can get cheap on the market. His right hand and left legs were entirely covered in bandages, not letting even a glimpse of skin show. When Twenty Three looked at him, the boy's eyes widened in recognition for a split second. The slave had no idea why. He was certain he had never seen this person before.

"Great." The boy got up and shot him a slightly condescending look. Then he smirked. "You finally decided to show up."

Twenty Three felt his temper rising, but he wisely held his tongue. This boy might have been a spoiled brat, but he was Master's guest and a free man. He way, way above his own station.

...Even if he was shorter.

"Are you sure you want him? I'm certain the experiment would go just as well with any other..." Master started, but the boy rudely interrupted:

"Yeah, yeah, you told me, but I want to make sure. He looks strong enough. So, do we have a deal?"

Twenty Three was too flabbergasted at first, seeing someone talk to Master with such disrespect, to notice what they were talking about. Then it hit him. He was being sold… to this brat. He scowled. This was _not_ his lucky day.

When the transaction was done, the boy folded a parchment on Master's desk and put it into his robes. "I'm eager to hear how it goes with the Homunculus, Roshan. I'll see you in a couple of days."

"I can't wait to have you here again," Master said with such admiration in his voice it dazed the slave for a moment. Just who was this kid? He spoke to Master with such ease like they were on the same level. "Your input is of utmost value. With your help, I could finish my next project in just a couple of weeks instead of whole years."

Twenty Three's new Master ginned widely.

"Well, I shall be off now. Let's go, Twenty Three."

Twenty Three followed, peering curiously. The boy, or should he think 'Master' from now on, didn't dress like a nobleman, but it didn't mean he wasn't rich. He had enough money to buy a slave, which was quite expensive. His previous Master appeared to have a lot of respect for him, so perhaps he came from the royal family? The thought exited him. Being a personal servant to a snotty brat could turn out to be a pain, but a richer Master usually meant more privileges for his slaves. Maybe this wasn't such an unlucky day after all.

They were walking along the street when Master suddenly spoke.

"So… 'Twenty Three', huh?" He was looking at him with a strange expression in his gold, piercing eyes.

"Yes, Master?"

The boy winced.

"Don't call me 'Master'." An angry frown creased his smooth features. "Don't you ever call me that again."

Twenty Three got nervous. Just five minutes with his new Master and he managed to anger him already. Not a very good start.

"Forgive me, Ma-" Fortunately he caught himself before he finished the word. "-um… sir. What should I call you, sir?"

"Call me Ed." Master closed his eyes in contemplation and hummed. "'Twenty Three'… that sucks. Who do you want to be?"

Twenty Three blinked, baffled. Was Master asking _him_ about his _opinion_?

"Is there a name you always wanted to have?" Master looked at him with open curiosity. There was no superiority in his attitude. This was so strange.

Twenty Three didn't know what to make of the question. "I don't have a name," he replied.

"I know that!" Master huffed impatiently. "That's why I'm asking you."

"I… I don't understand, Mas- sir."

Master groaned and covered his face with his bandaged right hand. He muttered something in a strange language.

"You really are hopeless, aren't you?" he said. Then he thought for a moment. "I guess that leaves us with one option, then. 'Van Hohenheim'. Is that good enough for you?"

Twenty Three looked at his Master with confusion.

"I asked you, do you like that name?" Master stated slowly.

Twenty Three really couldn't understand. Why was Master asking him that? Slave owners didn't do that. They didn't care if the slaves liked or didn't like things. Twenty Three supposed the wise thing to say here was to agree and just leave it be, but he was just too confused to think normally right now. He didn't understand his Master at all.

"What?" he said stupidly.

"'Van Hohenheim', do you like the name?" There was exasperation in his voice. "Man, you are such an idiot."

The comment broke Twenty Three out of his stupor. _I'm not an idiot!_ He thought angrily, but pressed his lips to avoid saying anything out loud. Master noticed the change in his expression.

"What?" A smirk appeared on Master's face. "Aren't you going to talk back at me, Hohenheim?"

The slave blinked twice. "That's… _my_ name?"

"Yes!" Master stopped walking and threw his hands in the air. "I've been saying that for ten minutes now! _Truth_ , you're so stupid it's frustrating!"

"Me? Stupid?!" The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Twenty Three couldn't help if he had a temper. He was just a teenager, and so was his new Master.

"Yes you!" Master poked him in the chest with a finger of his left hand. "You're slow and a complete moron!"

Twenty Three's face reddened and he pushed the hand away. "Why, you little…!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THERE AREN'T ANY CLOTHES HIS SIZE IN THE WHOLE COUNTRY?!"

The loud rant should have scared him, but it only enraged him more.

"I'm not stupid! And you're such a brat!" he shouted, then froze in fear.

He just insulted his owner face to face. Twenty Three called his Master a 'brat'. Oooh, he was so doomed. What was going to happen to him for that? Whipping? A month sleeping on the floor? Two months on bread and water only? Those would be light punishments. He should be worried about keeping his _head_.

But Master, to his extreme surprise and relief, smiled. This must have been the strangest, luckiest day of Twenty Three's life.

"Good job, Hohenheim."

The slave was confused to no end. "What did I do, sir?"

"You finally stopped acting like a pushover." Master explained happily. Then, his expression fell. He took a deep breath and started talking with a quiet, serious tone. "Listen. I know you've been a slave your whole life. I get that, and I'm sorry. That must have been hard." The sympathy in his voice caused Twenty Three to stare at him in shock. Was Master trying to _comfort_ him? After Twenty Three insulted him? "But you're a free man now. I don't want you to act like a slave anymore, alright? Just… be yourself around me. Like you were just now. And stop calling me 'sir'. I told you my name is Ed."

Twenty Three didn't respond. He was way too dumbstruck to say anything. Master just told him that he was a free man. _I_ _'_ _m_ _a_ _… free… man?_

"I guess you need time for this to sink in." Master – no, Ed. His name was Ed. He put his hand on Twenty Three's shoulder. "Come on, Hohenheim. You want to get some food? I'm starving."

The resumed walking. Hohenheim could do nothing but wonder if he was going to wake up any moment, because this _had_ to be some bizarre dream…

But for some reason, he didn't want to wake up.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> I want to continue, but it depends if people want it or not. I have a good feeling about this story, but it could be a one-shot if nobody is interested. I am not abandoning my other stories, this was just a small idea I had.
> 
> There are some good time-traveling fics out there with Trisha, but none with Hohenheim, which is a shame. I really like him as a teenager. I want to explore his character and build a friendly relationship with Ed. Edward might hate his father for leaving, but he doesn't blame a teenager who is not only not a father yet, but a slave. There are so many possibilities in this scenario.
> 
> But like I said, I need your support to continue this ;) So please follow, favorite, leave reviews, comments or questions! And thank you for reading!


	2. A Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly liberated and named Van Hohenheim shares a meal with a walking enygma named Edward Elric.

Twenty Three… or rather, Van Hohenheim, as he reminded himself... was so confused.

Mast- Ed. Told him he was free from now on. But he couldn't quite wrap his head around it. The thought of not being a slave, making his own decisions… it was…

What _did_ it feel like, exactly? Hohenheim couldn't help but wonder, because honestly, he was clueless. He had never imagined being a free man before. Usually to earn something like that, slaves had to work their hardest for years, repetitively proving their loyalty, and only then – if they were lucky – would they officially be made citizens of Xerxes. But this…

He hadn't done anything to deserve this, he realized with a start. Mas- _Ed_ , he only just bought him from his previous Master. Did he buy him for this sole purpose? To give him a name and free him? But _why_?

Yes, 'why' was a good question. Twenty Three ( _No, my name is Van Hohenheim… right? It's going to take a while to take used to_ _all of_ _this…_ ) decided to focus on that for now. Why did the boy do that? What did he want from him?

It wasn't a matter of _if_ Ma- **Ed,** **he's supposed to call him Ed**! If he wanted something. What were the chances that he didn't? Right, nonexistent. Hohenheim was born and raised in slavery, and for a slave, _nothing_ was simply given. It had to be earned.

But Hohenheim was certain that he had never seen this boy before. Was it possible that he unknowingly did something in the past, that benefitted the strange rich kid? He doubted it. Even if that was the case, who for the Holy Majesty's sake would waste such a huge amount of money, just to show gratitude _to a slave_? Not to mention to one who couldn't remember what the reward was for?

To put it simply, his head was a mess.

Hohenheim walked by the mysterious boy's side, in his state not paying any attention to where they were going. He almost bumped into him when they suddenly stopped. He hadn't noticed that they arrived at the market already.

"What's that?" Ed asked him, pointing at a woman with a cauldron. Wonderful sweet smell was filling the air. Although Hohenheim had never tried this dish – he ate only porridge most of his life – he recognized the scent immediately.

"That's pomegranate soup."

"Is it good?"

Hohenheim didn't respond. He didn't know if it was good, and making a guess was risky – what if Master ate it and didn't like it and accused him of wasting his money…?

...Oh, right. He was forgetting himself again.

Fortunately, Ed took his silence as a yes. With much enthusiasm, he walked up to the vendor and said:

"Could we have two bowls of that, please?"

Hohenheim looked at him curiously. Two? Those bowls were huge. Apparently Ed wasn't kidding when he said he was starving earlier.

The middle-aged woman smiled and filled the first bowl.

"Here you go, dear boy." When she handed another to Hohenheim, she added: "And here's one for your brother."

Both boys froze. For a second, Hohenheim was too terrified to look at the other. A member of higher society, no doubt rich and influential, mistakenly associated with a slave? Just how mad Ed was going to be? Slowly and fearfully, preparing for a big blow, Hohenheim turned his head to see Ed's reaction.

But what he witnessed, was not fury, nor incredulity as he expected. An onrush of emotion, so many and so complex Hohenheim couldn't even begin to decipher them, played across the boy's face. Ed opened his mouth to say something back to the vendor, but he closed it wordlessly. His jaw tightened.

"What's the matter, dear boy?" the vendor asked with concern.

Ed glanced at at the teen next to him with strange apprehension. Something flashed in his golden orbs, an expression Hohenheim recognized as pain. _What…?_ Before he had the time to read anything else from it, Ed shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Nothing, I'm fine. How- how much?" his voice barely trembled, but it was enough for even Hohenheim to notice. He was surprised, however what baffled him more was that he hadn't scolded the woman for her assumption. He should have punished her for being disrespectful. It was fully expected from someone of his social status, wasn't it?

The vendor collected her money and gestured a wooden bench nearby.

"You can sit there while you eat. I'm going to need the bowls back, so bring them here after you're done, alright?"

"Yeah, sure… thanks." Ed hid his face behind his long bangs. Hohenheim felt a bit of relief. He wasn't being bashed out or blamed for what just happened. But the way Ed said that, and the expression he just had, was a bit worrying.

They sat down and for a moment, none of them moved. Finally, Ed lifted his head and looked at him quizzically.

"Why aren't you eating?"

Hohenheim couldn't help but stare blankly for a second.

"This is for _me_?" he asked in disbelief.

Ed smacked him on the forehead with his left hand, almost spilling his own soup. His previous mood seemed to have vanished entirely.

"Well, duh! Why do you think I asked for _two_ bowls?" Seeing how Hohenheim's shock hadn't dissipated yet, the boy snorted. "Come on, you don't think I'm that big of a jerk to eat in front of you and leave you empty handed, do you?"

Well, as a matter of fact… he did.

"What? You don't like it?" His voice was filled with exasperation. "You could have told me before, you know, then I would have gotten you something else!"

"No, I..." Hohenheim couldn't believe this. How could the boy _not_ understand his stupefaction to such unbelievable generosity? Was he faking it? "...I just… I've never had pomegranate soup before."

Ed raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" He eyed the bowl suspiciously. "It wasn't that expensive."

Hohenheim pressed and rubbed two fingers against his temple, wondering just how _oblivious_ Ed was to the differences of their social classes. Perhaps he had never owned a slave before, he considered. It would explain this bizarre and unreasonable kindness.

"Slaves don't have their own money."

Ed finally seemed to understand.

"Oh."

He said nothing more, but the way he stared at his soup with a deep frown told Hohenheim that he was thinking very hard about something. Ed nodded to himself, like he just made a decision of some sort, and drank some of the soup. An elated grin split his face.

"Mmmm!"

He started eating with speed that almost made the other laugh. Wow, the kid must have been really, really hungry! Now it was his turn.

Hohenheim inhaled some of the vapor first, savoring the amazing smell. His mouth watered in anticipation. Almost hesitating – this was too good to be for him, right? – he lifted the bowl to his lips. A loud gasp escaped him after his first swallow. This… this was... the most _delicious_ thing he had _ever_ tasted in his whole life! Instantly, he started drinking the soup with the same eagerness as his companion.

When the two of them were finished, they exchanged satisfied smiles. All of a sudden, Hohenheim felt a lot less awkward and uncertain than before. It occurred to him that he probably should say something... to show that he's grateful.

"Um, Ma- uh, I mean, si- uuuh..." he sighed at his own hopeless stuttering. Ed snickered, but didn't look offended that Hohenheim spoke without permission, which gave the teen courage to try again. "I… want to thank you. For… for the meal and… Can I ask..." he trailed off.

"What?" Ed prompted.

"Can I ask you… why?"

Ed gave him an innocent look.

"Why what?"

Hohenheim waved his hand in an indeterminate gesture.

"Why did you… do this." he finished somehow embarrassed. "I just don't understand. Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

Ed looked away with a cryptic smile.

"Because you're important… Hohenheim."

The teen stared and blinked and stared some more. _Important?_ How could _he_ be important! He didn't even have a name yesterday!

"You know..." Ed glanced at him and frowned. "Calling you that is sort of weird."

 _Weird? But you named me yourself!_ Hohenheim thought, but the slave habit of keeping this kind of comments to himself was hard to kill, so he didn't say it out loud.

"How about I call you 'Van'. It suits you better, I think. Almost like a nickname. 'Hohenheim' makes it sound like you're an old man, and you're just a kid."

_Who are you calling a kid?! I bet you're younger than me!_

This boy was so strange and confusing! Not to mention irritating. Couldn't he make up his mind already?

"Got a problem, Van?"

"No," he grunted in response.

Ed smirked at Hohenheim, who felt even more vexed. The boy could see his confusion and was looking amused. The brat was enjoying this! Okay, so maybe he wasn't that bad, he just gave him the tastiest meal he ever had, but he was still infuriating. His smugness reminded the teen of Andal.

"So, Van." Ed put his chin on his bandaged fist. "What are you planning to do now?"

"Huh?" was all baffled Hohenheim, or Van, could say.

"You are free now, remember? You can go wherever you like. What are you going to do with that?"

Van was still for a moment. He hadn't even thought of that yet.

"I… I don't know..." he replied truthfully.

"Well, there are three things you could do." That got his attention. Ed lifted his left hand pointed the thumb upwards. "First. You travel east to Xing and look there for a better life."

Xing? Across the desert? But that was so far… He didn't want to leave Xerxes. Ed could tell from his expression and continued with the thumb and second finger stretched out:

"Second. You stay in Xerxes and find a job here."

That didn't sound too bad, but what he was supposed to do? He could sweep, clean, set tables and wash dishes, but that was about it. If he couldn't find a job… he would have to sell himself back into slavery, to avoid starving on the streets. In a way, that would be even worse. He'd be able to choose his Master, but he had no guarantee he wouldn't be sold to someone else, possibly a much worse owner. It's like getting out of fire right into the frying pan.

"Or third." Ed showed three fingers. "You come with me."

This proposition shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. A lot.

"Come with _you_?"

"I'm not going to force you," Ed said in a tone that made it clear he was completely serious about it. "You just met me and have no idea who I am. But if you come with me, I can promise you will be safe and have a place to stay. And I could come up with a thing or two for you to do, in case you don't find a job."

This offer… it… didn't make any sense!

"Why set me free, if you want me to work for you?" Van asked, bewildered and suspicious.

Ed shrugged.

"I don't know, company, maybe?" Seeing that the teen wasn't buying it, the boy sent him a cheeky grin. "Well, that's for me to know and for you to think about."

He was teasing him! Van scowled in annoyance at Ed and finally dared to ask him outright:

"What is it with you? What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

"What, am I not allowed to be nice to people?" the boy asked in mock surprise.

"'Nice'?!" Van repeated incredulously. "Spending a talent* of gold for a slave and freeing him the same day for _no_ reason? That's not being 'nice', that's _insane_."

The corner of Ed's mouth twitched upwards. For a moment the boy struggled to remain expressionless, but it quickly failed, and he burst into laughter.

"Hey!" Van Hohenheim exclaimed. The boy continued laughing so loud some people on the market started looking around. Van stood up, his cheeks reddening. "Stop that!" he hissed.

"Sorry, Van, it's just… your face was so priceless!" Ed giggled, holding his stomach. "Wow, I had no idea messing with you would be this fun!"

Messing with him?! Hohenheim wanted to punch him so badly right now. Maybe even more than Andal. Ed was confusing him on purpose! Was that the only reason why he did those things for him? Just to see his reaction?

"Aaah, that was so good." Ed wiped tears of laughter away. Then he grinned in such an honest way, Van couldn't stay mad at him anymore. This kid was infuriating, short, annoyingly mysterious and possibly crazy, but… he wasn't that bad. He got this intriguing vibe around him, not to mention was extraordinarily generous. Van thought it could be worth it to stick around him after all. "I haven't had a good laugh in..." Ed's face fell for a moment, but he forced back a smile. "...a while. Thanks Van."

"You're welcome," Hohenheim answered sarcastically. He didn't like being Ed's source of entertainment, but as long as it didn't involve violence towards him (many slave owners had an 'interesting' sense of humor) it was endurable.

They brought the empty bowls back to the vendor. The woman looked at Ed with a hint of nervousness.

"I apologize."

"For what?" Ed was clearly surprised.

"For assuming you two were related. I heard what you were talking about. I had no idea this boy is your freedman… I'm sorry."

Ed blinked at her and looked at Van, then turned back to the vendor.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," the boy said softly, albeit sounding confused. "It was a natural assumption. We're around the same age and look a bit similar. You don't have to apologize just because you thought he was my brother." The last word was said with subtle sadness.

The woman regarded him, and a gentle smile blossomed on her face.

"What's your name, dear boy?"

"I'm Ed."

"You are an amazing young man, Ed," she told him. "I hope more people of your generation grow up to be as selfless as you are."

"Oh. Um, thanks…?" he rubbed the back of his neck, a pink hue coloring his cheeks. Van smirked, thinking it was good to know the boy could get embarrassed this easily. It'd be helpful while getting back on Ed for messing with him. But that could wait for later.

* * *

"So," Ed spoke after they departed from the market. "What's your decision?"

Hohenheim contemplated for a moment.

"I really don't understand why you're doing this," he started. "But… I guess I'll go with you. I don't want to leave Xerxes. And finding a job on my own would be very hard, I'd be better off as a slave. I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Alright!" Ed patted him on his shoulder with his right hand. Even through the bandages, it felt strangely hot and stiff. "Let's get going then."

"Where?"

"To my house, doofus." The boy rolled his eyes. "It's really unbelievable how thick-headed you are."

Van glowered at him.

"That's not true! I'm plenty smart!" he retorted. Suddenly he remembered how Ed acted when he thought he called him little earlier. He smirked evilly. "And a lot taller than you, kid!"

Ed glared back.

"Are you implying that I'm _short_?"

"Short? Please," Hohenheim scoffed. "That's way too generous. You barely qualify as a midget."

He watched with satisfaction as Ed's entire face became red like a beet.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MICROSCOPIC INCONSIDERABLE UNDERSIZED TRIFLING PATHETIC INSIGNIFICANT-"

Van had no idea so many words similar to 'short' existed in Xerxesian vocabulary. It took Ed quite a while to list them all. By the time he was done, everybody in the proximity of five miles was looking in their direction.

"-TINY LITTLE BEANSRPOUT!" he eventually finished, completely out of breath. Honestly, Hohenheim was impressed he was able to keep going for so long. This kid sure had one pair of strong lungs.

But, despite being half-deaf by that point, Van Hohenheim thought it was totally worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> It's been a week since I've updated my stories, but no worries, I'm not dead! But life is sort of important, you know, so there was nothing I could do. I'll do my best in the future.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews! :D I'm so glad you people like this story! I have a plan for it, and I hope you're going to like it. I know you're curious, but you'll have to wait a chapter or two for Ed's perspective to find out what happened and how he got into the past. It's going to be quite important (I don't like those king of stories where somebody ends up time-traveling "just because". Either think things through and all the way or don't try at all – that's my motto!), you'll see. If you're confused by lack of hostility toward's his father, it will be explained in future chapters.
> 
> Oh, pomegranate soup is a real thing. I assume Xerxes is based of Persian culture because of the architecture. The dish is Persian and I heard it's very good.
> 
> * - a gold talent equals approximately 50 kg, which is 110 lbs
> 
> One again, thank you so much! Please leave reviews, favorite and follow, and most importantly: read on and enjoy! :)


	3. A Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van settles into his new home. The things he learns boggle his mind.

Ed was a bit grumpy for the rest of their walk. He _really_ didn't like being called short, apparently, thought newly liberated former slave Twenty Three as he rubbed his still hurting ears. But it was so hard to resist making fun of him. It wasn't because the boy was really that small – Ed was pretty average in height – but his reactions were just too entertaining. Van wished it had been that easy to rile up Andal. His life would have been so much more fulfilling the last couple of years.

This made him slow down a little, as he started pondering what his life was going to be like from now on. It hadn't fully hit him yet that he was a free man. It still felt too surreal, like a dream that was going to disappear as soon as he went to sleep. Falling asleep in a dream meant awaking in the real world, didn't it? In the morning he wouldn't be 'Van Hohenheim' anymore, and Ed would be gone like a figment of his imagination…

Well, even if it was true, then he was going to enjoy his time dreaming and make the best of it.

"Here we are."

Van looked up to see Ed's home. It was surprisingly… ordinary. The building wasn't as tiny as a lower-class citizen's, but it wasn't big enough to belong to a nobleman. The structure didn't stand out in any way; the roof was flat, the walls were made of sand-colored stone and the windows were square-shaped. It looked like a solid house with a common Xerxesian design, that blended in well with others on the street. The teenager was rather surprised. Surely it couldn't be Ed's home? If he had enough money to buy (and free) a slave, shouldn't he be living in more luxury than this? It wasn't bad, Hohenheim certainly couldn't be picky as he never owned anything himself, but it made a plain impression.

Van turned to Ed with a quizzical expression.

"Your family lives here?" he asked.

Ed's shoulders instantly tensed. Van got uncomfortable. What had he done wrong now? Master – _no, he's not your Master, remember?_ – hadn't reacted like this before when he asked questions, so he assumed he was allowed to speak freely… wasn't he? Or was he expected to stay quiet from now on, since he was about to be accepted into Ed's household?

The boy's answer dashed his worries, although it didn't exactly made him feel better.

"I don't have family anymore."

Oh. So that's why… _Oooh_. It explained so much. The way he reacted when the vendor assumed they were related. He wasn't angry back then, he was sad. Or why Ed looked so rigid all of a sudden. He must have lost this family in a tragic way… Van felt so stupid, ignorantly bringing up such a painful topic.

Wait a second… something didn't make sense here.

"But you're a kid, aren't you? Surely you have someone to take care of you?"

"No, I do not," Ed responded stiffly, not looking at him. "It is just me."

"Um..." This was so awkward.

Ed took a deep breath and sighed.

"You're going to ask sooner or later, so I might as well tell you now." He paused, apparently thinking of a way to make explain without giving away too many painful details. "I came to Xerxes all by myself. There aren't any of my relatives left. My mother died when I was young. My younger brother..." Ed had to stop to lick his lip nervously. "...something bad happened to him."

"And your father?"

Ed's hands turned into fists. The knuckles on his left hand became white.

"He left." His voice was hard.

"I'm sorry."

" _Sure_ you are!" Ed suddenly spat. Van flinched, taken aback by his hostility. The boy glared angrily at him and the teen felt like disappearing into the ground. He pushed the boundaries too hard, he should never had said anything, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut…

Ed noticed his frightened expression and his eyes softened. He rubbed his forehead and sighed again.

"Sorry, Van. I shouldn't be taking this out on you. I just… really don't like talking about it. It's..." he struggled for the right word. "It's complicated."

Van thought this one word was a perfect description of this odd boy. For the short time they had spent together, Ed presented the strangest collection of traits. He had a temper and was impatient, but also kind and generous. He had money, yet no family to share it with. Sometimes he acted like a friend, as if he knew Van already, but at the same time kept glancing at him as if he was something alien and intriguing. Indeed, Ed was very complicated.

"Shall we go in?" the boy finally suggested, interrupting the uncomfortable silence.

Van nodded. Ed opened the door and invited him in with a flourish gesture.

"Ladies first?" he joked to ease the atmosphere. Van bristled.

"Who are you calling a girl?!"

Ed chuckled.

The inside of the house was… chaotic. Hohenheim stood in place for a moment, baffled. If this wasn't evidence that Ed didn't own any other slaves, he didn't know what was. Everyday-use objects were laying around on the floors and on the tables, cloth and shoes were thrown around in disarray. Most shoes weren't even Ed's size. There were also so female accessories in the mess for some reason.

"I bought this house, with everything in, from a certain family about a week ago," Ed said, amused with his bewildered expression. "I gave them a cart of gold for it. You should have seen them bunk! They looked like they made a deal of a lifetime, they were so happy they didn't even want to take anything with them."

It did explain the condition of the house. But Van ignored that for now, as another detail struck him. His jaw fell open.

" _A cart of gold?!_ " he gaped.

"Yup. It's such a useful thing that gold is so valuable in Xerxes." Ed shrugged. He turned to him with a knowing look. "Ah, you're probably thinking that I'm a _spendthrift rich_ _guy_ or something. Am I right?"

Van blinked. "...Are you?"

Ed laughed. There was something really likable about that sound. Van definitely liked it more when he joked and laughed than he was sad and in pain. He promised himself that from now on he'd try to make Ed smile more.

The boy stood in front of a table and waved and him to get closer. Ed pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the cracked, wooden surface. Van looked at it with interest. It was just a piece of light-colored rock, one anybody could find on the street.

"What do you know about alchemy, Van Hohenheim?" Ed asked with unusual formality, scrutinizing it.

Van shrugged. "My previous Master is a royal alchemist, but I haven't seen him work. I only cleaned his laboratory… and..." His right hand enclosed the left forearm. "...he took some of my blood recently for an experiment, but I don't know anything about it."

Ed grabbed his arm without warning and pulled up the sleeve. With surprising gentleness, he unwrapped the bandage and critically examined the wound beneath.

"That's disgusting." He didn't seem to be referring to the injury. Suddenly there was burning anger in his eyes. "I already knew about it, sure, but to actually see it… That's so sick." He looked at Van with sympathy. "Did it hurt?"

Van was quite shocked to see somebody so concerned about his well-being. Why did Ed care so much?

"A little," he admitted but quickly added: "It wasn't too bad. It stung for a while, but it feels alright, now that I had it cleaned and all."

Ed hummed, swiftly put the bandage back on and released the arm.

"Normal alchemy doesn't require human blood," the boy told Van. There was thick disapproval in his tone. "Treating human beings like lab animals, that's just wrong. I made Roshan believe I wanted you for the same experiment, but I would never to that to another person." His eyes narrowed and brow furrowed in unshakable conviction. "A human is a human and deserves to be treated as such. No matter if he's a slave or not. You understand?"

Hohenheim gulped and nodded. When Ed got like that, he was surprisingly intimidating. The boy smirked at his nervousness.

"Don't look so scared, Van. I just told you I'm not going to hurt you."

"A-alright," the teen said shakily. There was something incredibly powerful about the way he spoke about experiments and alchemy, and most of all, about his former Master. Van never dared to think or say a single bad thing about Roshan, fearful respect for slave owners was being hammered into his brain since early infancy. He had suspected Ed being more lenient than that, so he allowed himself to call him infuriating and a brat, but it was also due to the fact that the kid was (possibly) younger than him, which irritated him. Being ordered around by a snotty rich-boy was not a promising perspective, after all.

Now, Ed was crashing his entire worldview of authority's infallibility and respect, telling him that what Roshan had done to him was wrong and that he should be treated like a person, regardless of his social status. He had no idea where Ed got such radical opinions, but it was shocking to hear to say the least.

"Now, back to alchemy." Ed snapped him out of his stupor. "Could you tell me what it is?"

"Huh?"

"I mean in general. Anything."

"It's… um..." Van scratched his head. "A science, I guess?"

Ed deadpanned at him.

"Really. That's all you know?"

"Uh..."

"Wow." The boy shook his head in disbelief. "You have no idea how ironic this is. Anyway," he didn't give Van any time to think about what he meant by that. "Alchemy is a science of understanding, deconstructing and reconstructing matter. Its main principle is 'Equivalent Exchange'. Humankind can't gain anything without giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. This is the first and most important law of alchemy. You got it?"

Van stared at him with wide eyes. He hadn't got the slightest clue what Ed just said.

Ed huffed impatiently.

"Whatever. I might as well show you. You see this pebble, right?" Ed pulled out a stick of chalk and started drawing a circle around it. Then he started filling it with complicated shapes and symbols with jaw-dropping speed. "It has a certain weight. With alchemy, I can turn it into something else, but the weight will have to remain the same. I can't make something out of nothing, or make something disappear." When he was done, the boy put his fingers on the pattern of the circle. Suddenly, it began to glow.

Van Hohenheim jumped backwards, terrified with the incredible display. He hadn't imagined alchemy to be so… grand, beautiful and _frightening_ , the power of the reaction was cracking and illuminating the dark room with blue light, which looked like lightning on a stormy sky. It lasted barely ten seconds, but in Van's mind it was the most intense experience he ever had in his life. He hadn't noticed he stopped breathing, until he gasped loudly, as he saw what came out of that indescribable process.

Where previously was a light-colored rock, now lied a small lump. It was some kind of metal, shiny and yellow in color, similar to Xerxesian eyes and hair. Even an uneducated slave like him knew what it was. He would have never believed it unless he saw it with his own eyes.

Ed turned stone into gold.

Van's knees crashed on the floor. His entire body was trembling.

"Van? You okay?"

The teen didn't respond, his vocal chords were frozen and he didn't know what to do. This… " **boy** "… who _was_ he really? Nobody knew how to create gold*! The man who possessing this ability would become the most powerful ruler on earth! Was Ed even _human_? Perhaps he was a god in disguise? It would explain his strangeness and otherwordly behavior, as well as his power… Oh gods, and he had insulted him and joked with him and even _made fun of his height…_ Hohenheim, fearing for his life, fell flat with his face the ground.

"Hey! _Van!_ Are you alright?! Come on, don't pass out!" something grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "Argh, what have you done, Ed you idiot! Wake up, Van!"

He wanted to obey, but his legs felt too weak and his mind was reeling in shock. Van heard someone sigh and suddenly he was being lifted from the ground.

"Come on, kid. If you have to to rest, don't do it on the floor," the voice told him with kindness he had never witnessed being directed at him. For a blissful moment, Van Hohenheim forgot who or where he was as his mind slipped into the world of darkness.

* * *

When he woke up, the sun was already near setting and the light turned orange, the warm rays falling in through a large square window. Van groaned and sit up, grabbing his head. He still felt a little dizzy, although it took him a while to remember what happened. Oh yeah, he saw Ed perform alchemy and he panicked. Wow, that was _really_ pathetic. He'd thought he had more guts than that.

Still, his mind was filled confusion and wonder and he couldn't stop thinking about Ed. How did he do that? The alchemic display shocked Van, but it was its product that caused him to lose it. Even his old Master couldn't turn stone into gold! If he could, he would be living in a much bigger house and owning much more slaves… or, maybe he'd be ruling Xerxes himself. Did that mean Ed was a more powerful alchemist than Roshan? Apparently, but he was just a kid, wasn't he? Wasn't the power of creating gold attributed to the mightiest of gods? Where could he have learn that?

Suddenly, Van remembered when he was called to Master Roshan's chamber, where he first saw Ed. Roshan spoke with admiration and respect which made Hohenheim believe he must have been a nobleman or royalty, but perhaps he had been mistaken. Maybe he had seen Ed's power and wanted to learn in order to please His Royal Majesty? It made sense, along with his dismissal of Ed's casual, almost rude attitude, which had left the slave flabbergasted. No wonder Ed appeared to him to be an over-confident brat, although it seemed Ed truly deserved such respect in every aspect, even if he didn't care about it in the slightest.

Van got up from the bed and looked around the room… _his_ room, it occurred to him. He and Ed were the only people living in this house, and there wasn't any evidence that Ed used this room in any way, which meant the whole space belonged to Hohenheim. It was strange to be by himself, not hearing other slave's snores or having Andal picking him in his sleep. It felt… lonely.

He started quietly wandering around the house, curious where Ed had disappeared to, but reluctant to call him. After ten-minute search he finally found the boy, sitting in front of a desk full of papers with a couple of candles burning with flickering light.

Ed had changed clothes since the last time he'd seen him, and he looked different. Very different, in fact. Van had never seen such dressing style, before, not even on Xingnese traders. He wore something that looked like a bright red robe with a black symbol painted on it. However it was split in front, and underneath he had black clothing shining like water, looking strangely tight on the body. His arms were hidden, but not in bandages, but in white slim hand-shaped cloth-sacks. But the weirdest where the black shoes he wore instead of sandals; they covered his entire feet and ankles and had a very thick sole, which was partly red too. Van had no idea if this was to be considered fancy or not, but he had to wonder if Ed wasn't boiling in this outfit. It was the middle of the summer after all.

He stood and gawked at him in the entrance until Ed's humorous voice reached his ears:

"Are you going to come in or what?"

Van jumped in surprise and his cheeks colored in embarrassment when Ed turned and gave him a mocking grin.

"Feeling better?" Van nodded. "Good. You scared me, kid, you were out for so long I thought you died of a heart attack or something."

He winced. Ed was teasing him again. It _still_ was incredibly annoying, but at the same time, there was some bizarre relief to it, and a bit of shame, because he sure deserved mockery after over-reacting to alchemy like that.

"Sorry." Van tugged his ponytail nervously. "I, uh… that was… stupid."

"You bet." Ed stood up and patted him on the shoulder in a patronizingly-parental manner. Which was pretty funny, seeing as Hohenheim's eye-level was above the tip of the boy's head. "If I had known you'd act like such a sissy, I wouldn't have bothered showing you that trick."

Van's face got even redder, this time also with anger.

"H-hey, I'm _not_ a sissy! Look, I was just surprised!" he defended himself. "I've never seen something like that before, and..." he trailed off. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"What? Spill it out!"

"How… How did you create gold, Ed?" he asked hesitantly, using his name for the first time.

" _With a_ _lchemy_. I thought you paid attention."

"I know, but- but that's impossible!"

"Why is it impossible?" Ed sounded amused.

"Because… because only _gods_ can do things like that!" He finally threw it out. "You're not a _god_ , are you?"

Ed's expression fell. He covered his face with his white-clothed hands and moaned. "Nooooo, not _you_ too!"

Van blinked.

"What do you mean, 'not me too'?"

"There was this couple a while ago whom I showed making gold," the boy explained wearily, sounding very irritated nevertheless. "They freaked out, and it was so much worse than what you did. They started bowing and begging me for mercy like I was a demon or something. It was so annoying." Suddenly, Ed grabbed him by the neckline edge of his robe and pulled him down, to have their faces on the same lever. He glared and threatened: "If you ever try to do that I swear I _will_ turn into a demon and knock your teeth out."

Van didn't know if to take him seriously or not, since it seemed kind of backwards. If showing respect wasn't what Ed wanted from him, then what _did_ he want, exactly?

"Okay, I won't bow if you don't want me to," Van chocked out, baffled.

"Good," a smirk appeared on Ed's face and he let him go.

"C-can I ask you something?"

"Only if you wipe that floppy look from your face."

"Right." Van stood straight and made an effort to look as calm and confident as possible. Ed gave him a nod of approval. When had this kid started acting like a mentor to him or something? It felt so weird. "Could you show me some alchemy again?"

Ed snorted. "What, wanna pass out one more time?"

"I won't pass out!" Van insisted. "Listen, I was unprepared the last time! Now I know what to expect and it won't affect me anymore!"

"Why do you want to see it again?" Ed asked, curiously this time.

"Because…" Van deeply thought about it. Why? Plenty of reasons, honestly. One, it was fascinating. Alchemy was like a glimpse of something new, an unknown world, which was pretty ironic, considering that he lived and worked for an alchemist most of his life, but he had never been interested in learning more about his Master's science before. Two, he was curious about Ed, his history and abilities, he really wanted to know more about him. But, the most honest answer would be: "Because… it felt like **freedom**."

This was not what Ed had been expecting, apparently, because he recoiled and looked at Van incredulously.

" _What?_ "

"It felt like freedom," he repeated, seriously. "I didn't know what it felt like before. When you told me I'm a free man this morning… I didn't really know what to think of it," he confessed. "I don't understand what it means, what is it like, what is expected of a free man or if it's better for me. But… when I saw that light, it was like seeing all those possibilities, dreams I never had because I was not allowed to..." Van swallowed. He was speaking from his heart but it sounded awkward in his own ears. He hoped Ed wouldn't see it the same way. "If I learned more about alchemy, maybe… maybe I could get to know… me… I don't know. Does it make sense?"

For a long moment, there was no response. Ed watched him with a blank expression, it was impossible for Van to figure out what could possibly be going on in his head. Then finally, Ed hastily stepped forward. Van made a conscious effort not to back away, but it soon turned out he had no intention of attacking him.

"Van Hohenheim!" Ed stood straight, suddenly much taller than before. Perhaps it were just the shoes, perhaps something more. Ed's golden eyes, filled with some sort of mystical fire, burned into his own. "I, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, swear to teach you and make you a **real alchemist** , if it's the last thing I do!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> Some of you might consider this behavior out of character for Hohenheim, after all he had this cool attitude when he met the Homunculus for the first time and he's Ed's dad so he should be fearless and everything, right? Well, it was a culmination of all the things that happened to him that day. He fainted not just because Ed broke several of his fundamental Xerxesians beliefs, but also because he had a quite stressful, really weird day. If you still think I overdid it and it's too much OOC, I apologize.
> 
> In Xerxes, people believed in many different gods, just like the Greeks or Mesopotamians. Remember that in Liore, people thought Cornello was a messenger from a sun god even though alchemy was much more well-known, so Van considering if Ed was some sort god isn't farfetched at all.
> 
> * - in my head-cannon transmutation of gold was invented in Amestris about two or three hundreds years later and then was made illegal. In Xerxes in 13th century, alchemy only began to develop. It progressed with the Homunculus' and Hohenheim's help after Xerxes downfall.
> 
> Thank you for reading, please review, read on and enjoy! :D


	4. A Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van learns some things from his new teacher. However sometimes, knowledge comes at a price.

"Sa...ey…?"

"Again."

"Seney."

"No. _Sensei_."

"Sen-sen?"

" _Sen_. _Sei_."

"Sa Say?"

"AAAAAARGH! How hard can it be to pronounce _one simple word_ , you colossal idiot?!"

"Who are you calling an idiot, **shorty**?!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PATHETIC LITTLE RUNT SMALLER THAN A GRAIN OF SAND DIVIDED BY A THOUSAND?!"

Lesson number one. Call Edward Elric any variance of the words 'small', 'little' or 'short' and expect a colorful rant of the vertically-challenged alchemist – which Van found very amusing.

Lesson number two. Apparently, it was tradition for an apprentice to refer to his alchemy master as "Teacher". Which was, in Ed's language, a strange two-syllable word that Hohenheim just _couldn't_ say, no matter how much he tried. Sufficient it is to say that Edward was getting mildly exasperated.

Van had been quite surprised to find out that Ed wasn't from Xerxes. He blended in perfectly, he didn't have exotic features like people from Xing, and his foreign accent was almost untraceable. Although, Hohenheim probably should have considered this possibility eariler, when Ed muttered in a strange language to himself from time to time.

It was great to finally get to know the mysterious boy's full name. From the beginning Van thought that "Ed" was too… _simple_ of a name for someone like him. Van couldn't describe it, but there was just _something_ about the way Edward Elric carried himself and his presence, he had to have some sort of title.

The first thing Hohenheim asked was why Ed was called "Fullmetal Alchemist". To this question, the response was:

"Most alchemists specialize in a specific field of alchemy. There are so many sub-subjects and branches, it's almost impossible to learn them all. I specialize in metal transmutations, like I showed you earlier."

"Will I get a title too?" Van asked eagerly. "I mean, after I learn and everything..."

"Only if you want to," Ed told him with a smirk.

"Do I chose it myself, or you give me one?"

"Huh." Edward pondered with a finger on his chin. "I have no idea. I didn't chose mine, but you..." He shrugged. "I guess we'll figure it out later. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You have yet to learn the basics of alchemy, leave names and titles for later to worry about."

He had a point. Van couldn't even handle saying the word Ed was struggling to teach him.

"I give up." Hohenheim threw his arms in the air. "I'm just going to call you 'Master'."

Ed crossed his arms and scowled. "No way in hell. I refuse."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like it!"

"Why is that, Master?" Van grinned teasingly.

" _Stop_ calling me that, my name is _Ed_!"

"Alright, why is that, **Master Ed**?"

"Quit it!" Edward growled. The other laughed.

"Just tell me why."

"I feels wrong, alright?"

"Why?"

"Because, you're not a _slave_ , got it? And _I_ definitely do not owe you." He seemed disgusted for some reason.

"You _are_ going to be my teacher, so I don't have to be your slave to call you that," Van pointed out. "You told me that 'Se'… um… _whatever_ means the same thing."

"No. 'Sensei' means someone you obey and listen to because they deserve it, either because of their skill, knowledge or age. 'Master' refers to someone who has power over you, but it doesn't guarantee respect."

"That's not true! All slaves respect their Masters," Van protested, slightly offended.

"Did _you_?"

"Well, of course I did!"

"You respected Roshan even after what he did to you?" Ed gave the bandage on the teen's arm a meaningful look.

"Um… well, yes..." Van put his hand over his injury, sounding a little uncertain.

"How can you?"

"It wasn't a big deal… Just a cut."

Something in Ed's expression darkened.

"He hurt you for a selfish reason and didn't ask you for permission."

"Permission? He was my Master," the teen replied, baffled.

"See? This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Ed exclaimed angrily, then sighed. "Such blind obedience."

Hohenheim fell silent, looking at Edward with a look of a lost child.

"Do you truly believe he had any right to do that to you, Van?" Ed's golden eyes pierced straight though him, making his very soul shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "Do you really think that you deserve such treatment? That _anyone_ does? Do you think people should treat each other like objects?"

Van was speechless. He couldn't move or look away.

"I think I'm starting to understand," Ed's voice got quiet. "It seems freedom is something I cannot give to you, not by myself..."

"W-what do you mean?" Van finally stuttered. He was yet again completely confused.

Edward stood up from his chair and turned to the window. The sun had disappeared a long time ago, and stars glimmered brightly on the black, cloudless sky. The boy stared at them for a moment, thoughtful, like he had forgotten he wasn't alone.

"Um, Ed?" Van spoke up hesitantly. Slowly, Ed turned.

"It's late," he said softly. "You must be tired. You should go to bed."

"What about you?" Van had to ask. Somehow, he could tell Edward wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

"I have more important things to do," Ed dismissed him. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but it made the teen sad for some reason.

Van obeyed and left the room immediately. Only after he got into his (own!) bed, it occurred to him that this was what Ed could have meant by 'blind obedience'. He could have stayed, asked Ed what was wrong and why he didn't want to sleep, but instead, he just did what he was told.

There was so much on his mind he doubted he could fall asleep. When he got up this morning, he never would have believed his day would turn out like this. He was sold, bought, named and freed, received the most delicious meal ever, got his own room, all in one day! But what made the greatest impact on him was Edward Elric himself.

He couldn't think of him simply as his Master – regardless if he would eventually call him that or not, which hadn't really been decided – or even a boy or a brat. Van couldn't compare him to anybody else in his life. Ed wasn't just any person. He didn't want him to be his slave, yet he invited him into his life. He accepted him into his house, gave him things without asking anything in return, offered to teach him. Even if Ed irritated the teen at times, with his teasing remarks about his intelligence or those all-knowing smirks, Van didn't disliked him like Andal. But he didn't fear him like Roshan, either – quite the opposite, actually... He felt gratitude and respect, he supposed, but there was something else.

Eventually Van did figure it out, and what he found was quite surprising. He discover that, for some unspeakable reason, he **trusted Edward**.

Yes, he trusted him. A stranger, a mere boy with frightening power with mysterious personality, had gained him complete trust. How could it be? Why would he he trust Ed so much? He didn't know him at all...

His eyelids slowly began to close, the excitement of the day catching up to him. Oh well, thought the sleepy teenager. He could think about it in the morning.

* * *

That night, he had a very strange dream.

He dreamed that he was standing in the desert. Suddenly, he noticed people on the horizon – all familiar faces. Master Roshan, Andal, little Karim, Ten, Zand, Laleh, Fourteen and other fellow slaves, all looking at him and waiting for him. He was about to follow them, when he noticed somebody right standing next to him: a short figure with a right hand and left leg covered in bandages.

"Come with me," the stranger said.

"Twenty Three, what are you waiting for?" Master called him angrily. "Get over here at once!"

"Don't listen to them," the figure came closer. "Follow me."

"Twenty Three, how dare you disobey your Master!"

He looked between the two sides, torn. What should he do? Should he go with the stranger, or should he listen to his Master? What should he do?!

"Twenty Three!"

"Don't listen-"

"If you don't come this instance, you will regret it!"

"Don't go with them!"

"Your last warning, Twenty Three! What will you do?"

"I don't know!" he wailed, grabbing his head. "I don't know what to do!"

"How do you expect to become an alchemist, if you can't even decide on your own?" the stranger asked him with contempt.

The sky darkened with clouds and the rain started falling. Water was raising quickly, first it reached his ankles, then knees, then chest, it washed away everything, the sand, the people…

"No, wait!" he screamed, reaching out, but couldn't hold onto anything.

"It's your own fault, you know," a voice rang in his ears. "You couldn't make a decision. You've lost your chance."

A bolt of blue lighting appeared in the sky with a rumble and dazed him…

...Van awoke with a startled gasp.

That dream was so _freaky_. He hadn't have a nightmare in a long while. The last time it was something so ridiculous it was almost funny – he dreamed he was sweeping but every time he cleaned the floor, it was getting more and more dusty. But this, it was downright creepy. He was so scared that he'd drown, that he would be separated from everyone…

_How do you expect to become an alchemist, if you can't even decide on your own?_

He winced, remembering the tone Ed spoke with in his dream. It didn't sound anything like him in the real life – it was so cold and rejecting. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. It really did.

_Am I really unable to make my own decisions?_

Van stepped away from his bed and only now noticed something. The sun was up and high. He slept through almost the entire morning! How come no one woke him up to make him do his chores...? He almost slapped himself at the thought. Of _course_ nobody woke him up, he wasn't living in Roshan's mansion anymore! And he didn't have any chores for now, at least not yet.

Sooo… what _should_ he do then? He blinked, suddenly understanding that without someone else giving him orders, he truly didn't know what to do with himself. It was a somewhat startling realization.

His pondering was interrupted by a loud sound, coming from his hungry stomach. The noise reminded him it was probably past time for breakfast. With unfamiliar excitement, he wondered what he and Ed would get to eat today. He knew he better not get his hopes up, the pomegranate soup was probably only a celebration meal, but maybe, just maybe...

Van knocked at the door of Edward's room.

"Come in!" came a tired voice.

Van frowned and entered. He was greeted by the same sight as yesterday. Ed was sitting at his desk, which was covered in even more papers. The candle was burned out.

"Good morning, Mas- eh, sorry..." Van rubbed his neck sheepishly. Ed smiled at him, bur it didn't quite meet his eyes. They were glassy and red. It could be just because of too much reading. However, Hohenheim had an inkling there was an entirely different reason for it. "Um, you weren't awake the whole night, were you?"

Ed shrugged indifferently and stood up. "Doesn't matter."

Only now Van noticed that he was back in his Xerxesian robe. His eyes unconsciously fixed on the bandages on his two limbs. Just like in his dream… The way they were so tightly wrapped and revealed not a glimpse of skin made him wonder.

"Can I… ask something?" he said tentatively.

"You just did," Ed smirked.

"Oh, right."

"What is it, Van?"

"Are your arm and leg alright?" he asked with honest concern. "You aren't badly hurt, are you?"

"Ah, these? Nah," Ed acted so at ease it made Van sigh in relief. "I just have some scars and I don't like people gaping at them, that's all."

Van blinked. Scars? Who covers scars with bandages? Isn't it uncomfortable after a while? Well, unless it looked really terrible… He was tempted to ask what happened, but he respected Ed's privacy. If he wanted Van to know, he would have showed him already.

"Are you hungry, Van?"

The teen nodded.

"Good. I'm starving! Let's go get some food!"

Ed immediately looked more lively. As they left the house, he complained about the heat in a good-natured way. The two of them bickered a bit. Ed challenged his intellect again, Van in turn insulted his hight, and got rewarded with a threat of a fist in the face. They were both in good mood, but Hohenheim couldn't stop thinking about the reason why Edward's eyes were so red when he entered his room. He… he hadn't _cried_ , had he?

It was difficult to imagine. The alchemist acted so tough, and even with his tempter, he appeared to be mature and wise beyond his years. But before Van left to go to bed, Ed looked so… He didn't know what to call it. That look in his eyes was an emotion Hohenheim had no experience with. Van used to comfort little Karim when the child sometimes, but the neighbor kid only cried when he got hurt, like the time he tripped and scratched his knee. That expression Ed wore on his face yesterday wasn't hurt nor ordinary sadness. So why would he cry?

Van didn't see any reason why someone like Edward would feel the need to cry. From his perspective, Ed had so much – talent, confidence, knowledge, skill… Although he _did_ mention losing his family. Maybe that was the reason?

The short glances he gave Ed to examine his face didn't gather him any clues. The boy acted completely normal, beside the fact that he seemed a bit tired. Well, no wonder about that.

"Why didn't you sleep?" he blurted out before he could help himself. Ed shot him a disapproving look.

"None of your business."

"What were you doing the whole night?"

"Studying alchemy."

"What kind of alchemy?"

Ed sighed, irritated with his stubborn inquiring. Good, Van thought. He was glad he could return the favor.

"I had a long talk with Roshan yesterday about his **experiment**." There was clear distaste in his tone. "I have to figure out what he did and how he did it. Fortunately, it seems he doesn't really know himself, lucky bastard."

Van recoiled from the insult against his old Master. Hearing Ed saying such things about him felt so dangerous and strange. He would have feared even to _think_ those, while he belonged to Roshan.

"I don't suppose you know what he's currently working on, do you?"

"No clue," Van admitted.

"He used your blood to make a living creature, called a Homunculus," Ed lowered his voice and looked around, like he didn't want anybody to hear their conversation. "For now, all you need to know that the Homunculus is very dangerous. It's part of the reason why I had to get you out of Roshan's house as quickly as possible."

"What?" the teen stared at him, uncomprehending.

"We shouldn't be talking about it here," Ed told him, and grabbed his arm, dragging him to the market. "I'll tell you more about it later, when we return home. Now, let's focus on what we're going to have for breakfast."

A happy smile grew on Hohenheim's lips. So they were going to have a nice breakfast, too? Someday he might just hug this generous alchemic Beansprout in pure joy, if he would keep doing things like this.

They stopped at a small restaurant and got fresh cut vegetables, including tomatoes and cucumbers, pastries, fried eggs and nuts. The smell was so delightful Van thought he was going to die waiting for the dish.

Funnily enough, it seemed Ed shared the same sentiments because as soon as the plates landed on the table, he started devouring everything in shocking speed like he'd been deprived of food for weeks. Van's manners weren't any better, though. Barely twenty minutes later, they were both full and sat on a bench, content.

"I gotta say, I'm warming up to Xerxesian cuisine," Edward said with a grin. "It's very different from what what we ate back home, but it's really really good. I wonder what Xingnese food is like."

"Where are you from, anyway?" Van asked curiously, seeing his chance of getting to know his new… friend? Is that what they were? It was probably the best name for it at the moment.

"I came from the west."

"West? Really?" he was slightly surprised. "I heard there are only forests filled with barbarians there."

"Huh? Oh, right..." Ed seemed taken aback at the description. "Yeah, there are a lot of forests there, I suppose… I wouldn't know though, I came straight here, so hadn't seen that much." He thought for a moment, before he resumed speaking: "I haven't met many 'barbarians', although there was this group of bandits that attacked me and my companions on the way."

"Bandits?" Van's eyes grew wide.

"They were such pathetic cowards, you know," Ed snorted. "I didn't even have to use alchemy to take them out."

"'Take them out'?" The teen's jaw dropped.

"What?" Ed looked genuinely puzzled seeing his awed expression. "It wasn't that hard, there were only five of them..."

"You and your companions defeated a group of bandits?!" Van exclaimed incredulously. Bandits were very dangerous, they spend their entire lives using weapons and were very hard to defeat. Even with alchemy, Ed was a small kid. "How many people were there with you?"

"Just me, an old man and his wife." Ed rolled his eyes at his disbelief. "Traveling traders. They gave me a ride to Xerxes."

"Did he give you a weapon or something? Was he a skilled warrior?"

"Nooo," Ed snickered. "The couple didn't have anything to defend themselves with, poor guys. They were so convinced we were doomed that they started shouting at each other 'the last well-deserved insults before their graves', as they called it. Honestly, it was hilarious. I took all the bandits out myself while those two were too busy arguing to notice. They looked so surprised afterwards."

If he hadn't witnessed Edward doing the impossible yesterday, Van wouldn't have believed it. He gaped at the boy, making a pretty accurate impression of a stunned goldfish.

"Close your mouth, or you'll catch a fly, kid," Ed laughed, looking very smug and amused with his reaction.

"Who are you calling a kid?!" Van instinctually shot back, snapping out of his stupor. "And just how old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen."

He almost fell from the bench.

"Sixte- WHAT?!" he shouted. "No way, you're a year OLDER than me? I thought you were TWELVE or something!"

"Wait, what?!" Ed was equally indignant. "You mean to tell me you're fifteen? You're younger and **still** taller than me? That is **so not fair**!"

"But how can _you_ be sixteen?! You're just a pipsqueak!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PIPSQUEAK!"

* * *

"So, Ed," Van asked much later, after they were done and walking home. "You said you 'took out' five bandits yourself? Without a weapon?"

"Yup."

"How? How did you do it? Did you make a trap or something?"

"Nope," Ed said cheerfully. "I just beat them up into submission."

"What?" Van couldn't help a bit of skepticism creep into his voice. He believed when Ed defeated the bandits, but he was sure he was hiding something important. Nobody just confronts five armed people and gets away with it without a trick in his sleeve. Unknown to him, those thoughts played out clearly on his face.

Ed narrowed his eyes, not pleased with the sliver of doubt he was detecting. Suddenly, a mischievous spark glimmered in his golden orbs. Van got an ominous feeling.

"Why don't I show you?" Oh yes, he was definitely up to something. That smile was waaay too innocent. "Hit me."

It took him a moment to register what Ed said.

"Uh, what?"

"Go ahead. Punch me."

"Why?"

"If you can touch me, then..." Ed trailed off, uncertain what to say to make the offer more appealing to Hohenheim. "...then I'll buy you a double dinner or something?"

Van liked betting. He got a talent for it. Almost every time he made a bet with Andal he won. He usually chose his prizes to be as humiliating for his opponent as possible. Now, he got an idea.

"How about you admit that you're the shortest guy in Xerxes?" he smirked.

Ed's irritated expression alone was priceless. After few seconds he recomposed himself.

"Alright," he told him calmly. "But if I win, you're going to admit you are the biggest idiot in this country and I am **not** short."

Van grinned. "Deal! What are the rules?"

"All you need to do is hit me. It can be with your arm, leg, anything. If you drop then you lose. Sounds fair?"

Van nodded.

"Go all out on me!" Edward lazily put his arms on the sides, waiting.

The teen scrutinized him suspiciously. What he was planning to do? He was right in the open and they stood two feet apart from each other. Van looked around. There were no people on the street. He took a deep breath and charged.

Faster than he believed was possible, Ed gracefully dodged his fist and moved aside. Van swayed, turning around and blinking in surprise.

"What's the matter?" Edward teased with a confident glimmer in his eye. "Is hitting a target as hard of a task for you as pronouncing a simple two-syllable word? My my, that's so sad."

Van growled angrily and swung his left hook. Once more, Ed avoided his attack effortlessly.

"Is that all you've got, Hohenheim?"

He tried again, and again, but every time he approached Ed acted like he could read his mind. His balance was absolutely flawless, not letting Van catch him off guard. He decided to try a little trick.

The teen ran forward, making a wide motion with his arm, making it appear like he was going to send a punch out. However at the same time he kicked, hoping to reach one of Ed's legs. He didn't know his opponent saw the attack long coming. He grabbed Van's foot with his left hand and pulled, causing him to land on his butt on the ground, with an undignified gasp.

"Oof!"

"Looks like I win," Ed grinned cheekily.

"Oh shut up," Van's cheeks blushed slightly.

"Go on, say it."

"Alright, you're not short," he murmured in defeat.

"And…?"

There was some unrecognizable mumbling.

"I can't heaaaar youuuu!" Ed sang, clearly enjoying the moment.

"...and I'm an idiot," Van finally said with a sigh.

"That you are!" Edward agreed, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him up.

"I should have known you'd do something like that," Van was pretty frustrated and disappointed with himself. Did Ed had to be better at _everything_?

"Consider it a valuable lesson," Ed told him lightly. "As your teacher I can assure you, this is not the last nor the least painful one."

"That's reassuring," Van huffed.

"Come on, I was being so easy on you. If I treated you like _my_ alchemy Teacher did..." Ed suddenly shuddered. "Well, you don't wanna know."

Van strongly suspected he really didn't.

"Quite being so grumpy and accept the lesson I so graciously decided to bestow upon you," Ed attempted to sound over-the-top and smug, but he spoiled the effect as he burst out laughing at the end.

"And what exactly is the lesson, _my Master Ed_?" Van asked sarcastically.

"Never challenge the Fullmetal Alchemist!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> I hope I get the translation of the Japanese word "Sensei" right. I don't know how slaves would address their Masters in Japanese, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be "Sensei". Just to clarify, I don't know Japanese, so I may be a bit inaccurate. For the sake of this story let's assume Amestrian is Japanese.
> 
> You're probably waiting for Ed's perspective to come in, right? Well, you're going have to wait a bit, but don't worry, it's coming.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, please review and comment, and most importantly – read on and enjoy! :D


	5. A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed has become a good friend to Van. But Van learns that being someone's friend isn't always simple and happy.

A drop of sweat trickled down on Van's forehead. His teeth clenched tightly, as he struggled to steady his trembling hand.

 _You can do this_ , he tried to reassure himself. He glanced to the side, only to see a pair of unyielding, golden eyes, piercing straight through him, making him immediately regret this action. ... _C_ _rap. I can't do this._

The shaking of his hand intensified. He took a deep breath (one of many, during the previous hour and a half) and began, trying to look confident. Which failed quite miserably.

The hand had barely moved five inches, when Ed's weary voice interrupted:

"Stop, stop."

"No!" Van yelped pleadingly. "I can do this! One more time!"

The other teen's brow twitched. "Van..."

"I barely started this one! Just one last chance, please, please, please!" he begged, not caring how pathetic he must have sounded.

Ed growled and covered his face with his gloved palm.

"Fine," he permitted eventually, with no effort to conceal his exasperation. "But this is your last try, I swear."

Van exhaled with relief; phew, he wasn't going to die just yet! Then he looked back at the piece of chalk in his fingers and gulped, his expression falling. His execution had only been postponed, after all.

Deliberately, he pressed the chalk back against the cool stone floor. After another deep, calming breath, he slowly began drawing a circle. His hand was still shaking (he couldn't help it, with Edward's unnerving, penetrating glare on him through the whole process), but this time it moved much more smoothly. After about twenty seconds, the chalk touched the starting point.

Van's shoulders slumped as he released his breath – oh, gods, he actually did it! Right in front of him was a complete, not-distorted circle! He might actually survive this day after all!

Ed narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the drawing. Van inwardly beamed with pride. However it was short-lived, as the verdict came:

"That's an oval."

Van looked at him indignantly. "It is _not_! It's a circle!" He insisted, pointing at his drawing. During their lesson Ed had been making endless remarks about how Van's circles resembled stomped-over ovals, so he had no choice but to learn what it meant.

"No, it isn't," Ed said bluntly.

"But it still looks way more like a circle compared to the other ones!"

"Doesn't matter Van, it's just as useless in alchemy as an outline of a crushed partridge egg," came the merciless response. "We're going back to sparing."

Van paled. He'd known it was coming, but it didn't make it any less terrifying. "But-"

"To train the mind, you must first train the body. Obviously, your body isn't trained well enough to move onto your mind," Ed turned around to leave the room.

"But-!"

"If you start complaining again, I'm going to add two more hours to tomorrow's practice," he promised with a dangerous, angry tone, exiting through the door.

That was enough for Hohenheim to jump to his feet and rush after him.

"Coming, Master!" His tongue slipped yet again. Old habits die hard, it seemed.

"Don't call me that!" Ed snapped, shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

"R-right! Sorry, Ed…"

"Idiot…" he mumbled under his breath, but Van still heard it. He was tempted to make an unflattering comment about Ed's height – it never failed to get an amusing reaction from him – but he knew better than that. It would be downright suicidal right now.

It was unbelievable how much Van's life changed since Ed appeared in it. What also surprised him was how swiftly the last month had passed. He would have sworn time was moving faster somehow, now that he was living with the mysterious alchemist.

Edward remained true to his every word: he never treated Van as slave. He always referred to him as an equal, even while he was teaching. Van couldn't quite understand why, because their time together proved that he was anything _but_ equal to Ed. It seemed that any good trait he possessed, Ed surpassed him, multiplied by the factor of ten. He was faster, stronger, confident, knowledgeable… If he hadn't come to admire his new teacher, Van would be jealous of his skills.

The first alchemy lessons were the opposite of what Van had expected. Instead of teaching him how to read and write first, Ed started training him by giving a lot of physical activities to perform. Surprisingly, none of them were actual housework, like he used to do as a slave – Ed practically forbade him sweeping the floor, saying it was badly affecting his posture. In the mornings they ran around the city, for two hours straight – any slaking off would have horrifying consequences… of **extended sparring session in the afternoon**.

The sparring sessions were the most fearsome experience Van ever had, even including his first sight of alchemy. He had learned the hard way **why** nobody should challenge the Fullmetal Alchemist. Even though Ed always insisted that "he was going easy on him", every time Van was ending up with a new collection of bruises. Well, admittedly, those were mostly self-inflicted. No matter how hard he tried, Van just couldn't lay a punch: Edward always seemed to know exactly where and when he was going to attack. As the result, Hohenheim was falling quite often, usually on his backside, with Ed looking annoyingly smug and amused about it. It agitated Van so much he soon became determined to get better, for the sole purpose of eventually beating him – even if it would be just once. Still, it didn't decrease the amount of terror he felt when they were about to get started.

At first, Van was very confused about those teaching methods. Not that he'd got any different experience – he'd never had a teacher before, naturally, but what any of this had to do with alchemy? It was supposed to be a science, right? He never witnessed Roshan doing any of those things. In fact, his old Master preferred comfort above all else. Any hard work that needed to be done, was always accomplished by his slaves... Actually, now that Van started comparing Edward Elric and Roshan, he came to an extremely shocking conclusion that the latter was, in contrast to Ed… _**lazy**_ _?_

This was the first directly negative thing Van had ever thought about his Master. It was a totally new, alien concept. _Roshan's a lazy man._ It was followed by other mind boggling realizations. Not only was he lazy, Roshan had many other flaws, just like any normal human being. He could be just as presumptuous as Andal, for example. Van shared his amazing discovery with Ed, who whole-heartedly agreed, much to his surprise.

"He is so totally full of himself," he said, rolling his eyes. "Roshan spews cajolery like a merchant, too. To think I have to deal with him a while longer, it gives me a headache."

"What do you mean, 'deal with him a while longer'?" Van asked. Ed was leaving for several hours every week, but he never explained to him where he was going.

"He's a royal alchemist. He has the access to a lot of important information, so I have to keep contact with him…" Something in Edward's eyes darkened. "No to mention, he has the Homunculus in his mansion right now."

The word sounded vaguely familiar…

"You said something about it before, right?" Van scratched his head, struggling to remember. "That… 'Holusus' thing?"

Ed deadpanned. "You mean Homunculus."

"'Holun'…?" Van gave up and sighed. "…oh forget it. What was it again? You mentioned it, but I don't remember."

"Right... I was supposed to tell you, but I forgot too, didn't I?" Ed didn't seem very happy to talk about it, but he explained anyway: "A Homunculus is an intelligent, living being, created artificially with alchemy. It very difficult to accomplish, but apparently, your old Master has much more luck than skill. He used your blood to make that thing, which is why you're in danger."

Van stared at him in shock. "Danger…?"

The alchemist nodded solemnly. "The Homunculus, since its birth, possesses a very vast knowledge, including alchemy – much greater than I do. It's the reason why Roshan wanted to create him in the first place, because it knows more than him. But the Homunculus is also very, very cunning. It would try to manipulate you and Roshan for his own selfish gain."

"Is the 'Hum'… uh… that creature… _evil_?"

Ed turned his head away and closed his eyes. "As much as I want to say: 'Yes, it's absolutely a soulless, perverse abomination!'… The truth is…" A sigh escaped him and he opened his eyes, full of some strange sorrow. "It's… not exactly that simple."

The reluctance in his voice made Van extremely curious now. "How so?"

"In a way, yes, but from another point of view… no, it's not completely evil. You could say a Homunculus is like a human in that aspect. Remember what you said yourself earlier? That all human beings, no matter who they are, have flaws? Well, have you ever heard of 'the deadly sins of man'?"

"…No?"

"There are seven of them: Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Greed, Envy and… Pride." The last he practically spat, something akin to hatred flashing in his eyes. Van noted it with slight shock – Ed never looked this angry, even when he talked about Roshan and slavery, it almost looked like he had something personal against that particular sin. Van wondered why, as Edward continued: "Everybody has them buried in their hearts. But in spite of what most people may think, they're necessary. They are what make us human. They're the result of having dreams and desires. Learning how to live with them, overcoming them, separating what we want and what's right – that's precisely how he conquer our weaknesses."

"Right…" Van could see what Ed was getting at. Listening to his words, it was hard to believe he was only sixteen. He had the intelligence and wisdom of an ancient sage, or the King's advisor.

"Now, the Homunculus, because he was created with your blood and you're human, has human flaws as well. But he doesn't like it." Ed frowned. "He wants to become 'the perfect being'. In other words, a god."

Van gasped.

"Now you see how important it is for me to keep an eye on him. If I don't, his plotting will bring the downfall of the entire Xerxes. I can't let that happen."

"And it..." Van gulped, feeling his heart racing. "...it wants to use _me_ for its plans?"

"…sort of, yes."

The teen shuddered. Never had he imagined he would become a target of a malicious creature like that. It sounded so surreal, yet he couldn't help but feel afraid because of this ominous warning. Ed apparently noticed, as he put a comforting hand on Van's shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry," he said with surprising gentleness. "You're going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you, okay? Just trust me."

He did, of course Van trusted him, how could he not, after everything that Edward had done for him? But as he stared into his eyes with growing confusion, an important question surfaced his mind.

"Just how do you know all of that, Ed?"

Edward's face suddenly became blank. He turned his head away from him, hiding his eyes under his long bangs. Van watched his strange behavior with growing nervousness. "Ed…?"

Without a warning, Ed spanned around and left the room.

"W-wait!" Van quickly followed him. "Where are you going?"

"I thought it was about time I began teaching you real alchemy," Ed said not looking at him, pulling out some chalk from the drawer of his desk.

"R-really?" Van's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Till this moment, they had been doing only physical exercises, with the explanation that: _'To train the mind you must first train the body_ ', which he didn't even understand what was supposed to mean (except that you get your body to ache everyday).

"Yeah, since you're doing well with your training, I think it's about time we started with the basics of transmutation arrays."

Only a couple of days later when Van thought about it, he started to suspect Edward's only reason for the lesson was to use it as a distraction. After all, Ed never answered the question.

…And that's how Van Hohenheim ended up spending the next two and a half hour, struggling to draw the most basic figure in alchemy: a circle. But every time, no matter how much he tried, the lines were uneven, the shapes were lopsided and the beginning point and end didn't connect.

Ed was patient at first, but slowly he began to lose his cool as Van kept stubbornly insisting to continue, until he got it right. Watching the younger teen drawing hopeless ovals and claim they were perfect circles _for hours_ didn't make him very happy. The fact that both tended to lose their tempers when they were irritated didn't help much. Eventually, they arrived at the point when Van rudely demanded to be given more time, making Edward lose it and threaten that if he failed to draw at least **one** correct circle, they would immediately proceed to sparring – one much harsher and longer than usual. Just picturing it made Van sweat buckets. That was _not_ what he was going for! If it was true that Ed was always going easy on him – he didn't even want to think what he would be like when he was mad. Unfortunately for Van, it made him so nervous his hands couldn't stop shaking, resulting in his failure in the given task.

As poor Van had feared, Ed wasn't kidding with the punishment.

For the first time in their sparring practice, Ed not only avoided his attacks, but gustily delivered them himself, with no warning whatsoever. He moved like a viper, fast and precise, striking Van in every exposed spot he wasn't guarding.

Hohenheim especially tried to avoid the hits of Ed's right arm. From the start, he had noticed there was something odd about it. Ignoring that it was always covered in bandages ( _why? Were the scars really that bad?_ ) and it felt hotter compared to the rest of Ed's body, which was noticeable even through the thick fabric… Van avoided that arm's strikes like plague because _they_ _hurt so freaking much_. Edward's right fist felt like it was made of stone instead of flesh. Ed clearly had been holding back though, he rarely used that arm in the sparring sessions. Same went to the left leg. At first, Van believed those limbs to be more fragile and sensitive because of the past injuries. Oh boy, had that assumption been wrong.

Now Ed was assaulting him with the more powerful arm, eager to teach him a lesson about mindless stubbornness. Van ducked, breathing heavily. Ed charged forward, jumping and swinging his left hook. The younger teen moved to the side with one leg, just like he was taught, and leaned backwards. A fist moved inches away from his nose as it missed. Van instinctively leaped away, resulting in him losing balance and staggering on only one leg. Ed saw the opportunity immediately and dragged his left leg on the ground, knocking Van off his feet.

"Oomph!" he breathed out as his head hit the dry ground.

"Get up!" Ed ordered.

Van was wheezing. They've been sparring for half an hour, but it felt like three or four at least. He already felt like a stampede of cows had gone over him, twice. Edward must have been absolutely infuriated, he'd never pushed him like this before! How Van was going to survive this?!

"What, you're all out already?! You can't be serious!" His teacher looked incredulous.

"I… can't…!"

"Yes you can!" Ed forced him to get onto his feet with his left hand. "You have enough strength to talk, you have the strength to fight! Come on!"

Van stared at him wearily, still breathing heavily. He had to support his weight by putting his hands on his knees, bowing forward. He felt his legs giving out on him and he sat back on the ground. He knew Ed was probably going to kill him for this, but he was just so tired!

Ed really looked like he wanted to murder him for a moment, but then he unexpectedly sighed and shook his head.

"Fine. Ten minutes, that's all you get!"

Van struggled to even his breathing as he placed his head between the knees. It was pounding painfully, and his limbs were trembling with exhaustion. He heard the sound of steps moving away and he realized that Ed left the yard. Instead of relishing the break and being happy that his life had been spared (not literally, of course – Van truly trusted Ed not to hurt him… _**much**_ ), he suddenly felt abandoned… and utterly _pathetic_.

Edward did so much for him, and Van was nothing but a failure. He couldn't fight, his body was weak and his mind was worse – he couldn't even draw properly! He tried, he really did, but he kept on failing. No wonder Ed left him. He must be so disappointed in him… So ashamed of his terrible student, he can't bare to look at him anymore…

Before Van could drown himself in self-pity completely, someone poked him in the shoulder. The teenager blinked and realized that Ed was back. He was so distracted he didn't even hear him return.

"The break's over?" he asked, scrambling to his feet as quickly as he could. Van swayed a bit and could have fallen if Ed hadn't grabbed his forearm and kept him straight.

"Hey, easy," he said in such calming voice Van snapped his neck to the straight position to look at him. There wasn't a hint of anger or irritation on Ed's face anymore. "No, not yet. Here, drink this. You looked like you're about to pass out."

He put something into his hands and Van couldn't help but gape for a moment. It was a glass – a real, _genuine_ , transparent glass. He never had the luxury to hold one before, he was never even allowed to touch or clean the expensive glass containers, Master Roshan didn't trust his younger slaves not to break them – but that was beside the point! There was crystal clear water inside it, with something swimming on the surface. It was also a transparent, solid substance, in the shape of cubes, but it didn't look like glass. What was it then?

As he watched the cubes float in the mesmerizingly clean liquid, he realized that the glass was cold. It wasn't just cooler than his fingers – his entire body had heated up during the sparring, no doubt – it was actually cold, like _really_ _cold_. It felt like holding a winter night in his hands, a surprisingly pleasant experience in the middle of summer. He rubbed the glass, leaving a small dirty trail with his dusty fingers. He could see drops of water form on the outer side of the surface and he wondered why or how it was happening.

Ed must have noticed his fascination, because Van heard him speak a moment later.

"What is it? Wait, you… You know what ice is, right?" he sounded uncertain.

Van blinked at him. "Ice?"

"You know, like solid water?" Ed looked really thrown off by his blank expression. "Um… You have winter in Xerxes, right?"

"Yes," Van said absentmindedly, watching the cubes in his glass.

"Do you ever have snow?"

Van frowned, trying to recall where he knew the term from. "Wasn't there a legend about white powder falling from the sky in the countries up north? Is that what it was called, 'snow'?"

Ed opened his mouth for a moment. He seemed to be slightly dumbfounded.

"A legend? Seriously?"

"So the stories are true?"

"Yeah, they are…" Ed rubbed his head in clear disbelief.

"What is ice, then?"

"Wow… okay, look. Ice is what water turns into when it's cold. It can look like white powder, then you call it 'snow' but when you have compressed- er, I mean, put together tightly… like really tightly… then it looks different. Like this." He poked the glass. "And it turns back into water when it's warm. Like, right now. You can see the ice melting and getting smaller if you look closely."

Van immediately brought the glass closer to his face. Ed was right, they were getting smaller! His eyes widened.

"Amazing," he whispered.

Edward didn't seem too impressed.

"I can't believe you didn't know about ice…" he mumbled. "We really have a long way to go, before you can even begin to comprehend basic chemistry…"

Van lowered the glass and looked at his teacher with shame. "I'm sorry…"

"Hmm? What for?"

"You try so hard to teach me, and yet… I'm…" Van had a really hard time saying it, he absolutely _hated_ being called stupid or an idiot, but his time with Ed had humbled him a bit. Enough to admit this out loud, anyway: "…I'm just not that smart, please believe me that I'm trying, Ed, honest! I'm trying hard, but there are so many things I don't understand! I don't understand why I need to train and learn to fight in order to do alchemy, judging from the way you do things it's probably obvious, but I just don't get it. And…" He looked at the beautiful glass in his hands sadly. "…and I… I don't think I ever will…"

Edward scowled at him and crossed his arms.

"Look, Van, no offence… You are not an idiot, nor hopeless – trust me, I wouldn't waste my time on you if I thought otherwise – but what you just said is plain **stupid**."

"Huh?" Van looked up.

"Did you really think you could learn alchemy in a month?" Ed lifted his eyebrows skeptically. "Even for fully educated, intelligent adults it usually takes years to grasp the basics of alchemy. Don't you dare give up only because we're having a rocky start."

"I'm not giving up!" he protested. "I… I just thought… I, uh…"

"What? Just thought, what?"

"I'm sorry!" Van blurted out.

"You already said that, now what the hell are you apologizing for, exactly?" Now Ed seemed to be getting angry again.

"Because I'm such a pathetic student!" he explained dejectedly. "I can't get anything right… You gave me so much and I owe you and… You always talk about Equivalent Exchange, that for everything we get we have to give something in return, and I can't even repay you by being a good student…! I'm-"

"Stop!" Ed interrupted harshly. "Just, stop."

Van closed his mouth and eyed him with apprehension. However, Ed wasn't angry anymore. He was looking at Van with a strange mixture of sympathy, annoyance and anxiety. Van hadn't seen such expression on his face before.

"Van… Hohenheim," he started, using his full name to emphasize what he was about to say. "Listen carefully. You're not pathetic. You're not a horrible student. In fact, I'd say it's exactly the opposite. You're learning really fast, faster than I thought you would."

He paused, letting those words sink in. Van was bewildered. This didn't sound like his teacher at all. Usually Ed would tease him, use the hard treatment, giving much more punishments than rewards and never complimenting him without a sarcastic remark. Apparently, something had changed his mind.

"You had no education whatsoever, you were never taught to write, or read, you've never been given a chance to learn," Ed stated firmly. "They wouldn't even let you so much as to **think** for yourself. Hell, you've been a slave since your birth for crying out loud! I'm proud that you're willing to try, that you want to become an alchemist, in spite of all the crap you've been through. Do you understand?"

"You're… proud of me?"

Edward tightened his jaw and nodded stiffly. He seemed a bit conflicted, like there were many different thoughts going through his head right now.

"I am. Now, quit whining and drink your freaking water!" A small smirk appeared on his lips. He appeared to be back to normal… well, almost.

Van looked at the ice cubes in his glass a bit sadly. He was thirsty, very much, but he loved the way the cubes danced on the surface…

"I'll make you more ice with alchemy later," Ed said gruffly, effortlessly reading his expression. "Just drink already, before you drop out of dehydration."

"Really?" Van should probably be embarrassed how childishly he sounded. He didn't know what 'dehydration' was – Ed was using a lot of big words he didn't know – but it was hard to care about that right now, he couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah," Ed waved his hand like it was no problem. Van was seriously starting to ponder if there was something Edward _couldn't_ _do_ with alchemy. He didn't use it very often, but whenever it was needed, he could always find a solution.

Van smiled and drank the cool refreshing liquid in delight. He decided then and there that he _would_ become an alchemist, at any cost. Now matter how hard it would get, no matter how many bruises, no matter how many failures… Ed believed he could do it and because of it, Van believed it too. The Fullmetal Alchemist was never wrong, was he?

It may have been silly, but… yeah… if he were to ever inspire "to be like someone when he grows up", Van would say, he'd want to be just like Ed (even though there was only a one-year difference between them).

Well, except for Ed's height, of course.

* * *

The second month passed even faster. The training wasn't easy, it was painful and exhausting, but Van didn't complain – or, at least, not as much as before. Van actually started to notice his own progress. Before he was mostly focused on his failures, but when he started to pay more attention to his improvement, he realized that it wasn't as small as he previously thought.

Van turned out to be a decent fighter; Ed successfully taught him many moves which were gradually getting more effective in their sparring sessions. As Van was getting into shape with their daily exercises and running around the city, he became more agile as well. He finally started to see why Edward considered physical training so important in alchemy. Energy was filling him, the aches were reducing and he was filling better every day. It could be also thanks to the new diet Ed had been providing him, his head was much clearer than ever before and he found himself more open to the lessons and remembering then easier.

To sum it up, Van was feeling great – but the same couldn't be said about Ed. It took the other a while to notice, but Edward always seemed down. Tired. He masked it pretty well behind his cocky, snarky attitude, but it was impossible to keep it forever a secret from someone who lived in the same house. Van had a feeling Ed was hiding a large part of himself, of his personality. He couldn't forget their first morning, when he noticed Ed's eyes being too red. There were more mornings like that one, but the teen was careful to never mention it to Ed. He knew his teacher would just deny it.

Ever since their talk that day, Ed changed his teaching tactics. For one, he used more positive encouragement – it made Van much more motivated than criticisms, and the reason for that was actually very simple. Van had never been commended for anything. Back when he was a slave, all he got where orders and scolding when he messed up. He was more eager to please Edward than his old Master Roshan, because Ed actually appreciated the effort and, most importantly, was _proud of him_.

It may be hard for someone who grow up with parents to understand, but for Van, having for the first time in his life someone who actually expected him to succeed, to excel, to be someone worth being proud of… it changed _everything_.

The more time they spent together, though, the more questions about the alchemist started to form in the Xerxesian boy's head. Ed was mysterious – there was no doubt about it, he was hiding many things – and always acted like he knew something about Van Hohenheim, something that the teen was not aware of himself, as strange as it may sound. It was becoming clear to Van as he sometimes caught strange looks Ed was giving him. Those looks were very often thoughtful, sometimes nostalgic, at times even grim – but there was always something else lurking in those eyes, a deep, dark and completely unidentifiable emotion, which made him very curious. He respected Ed's privacy, but Van wanted to know, because Edward was becoming much more to him than his teacher or liberator.

He was becoming Van's friend.

Friend – in the culture of Xerxes, it was not a word to be taken lightly. People from the same social class, who knew each other, were usually considering themselves only acquaintances. It normally took years for true friendships to develop, for a friendship was, according to popular belief, a holy bond of unbreakable understanding and trust. There was a legend of two royal guards, who became like brothers and were serving each other to the bitter end. Some Xerxesians believed friendship to be more powerful and significant than love, because romantic feelings faded with time, while platonic bonds lasted forever, unless the people involved willingly decided to end them.

Van Hohenheim, a former slave who knew a lot of people but none of them could be described as a 'true friend', wondered what a true friend would be like. He probably would be loyal. Like Ed. He would be strong and caring, too. Also like Ed. He would support and be there for the other, like Ed had been there for him. He would be considerate, like Ed was for every human being.

…yup, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that if he could ever find an embodiment of a true friend, it would be Edward Elric.

However, the fact Ed was like a friend to him wasn't enough. Hadn't Van learned that for alchemist, there always had to be Equivalent Exchange? He wanted to be Ed's friend, too, but he doubted he had earned himself the title yet.

Because if he had, Ed would share some of his burdens with him, instead of hiding them behind a strong façade and the everlasting phrase: 'I'm fine.'

Edward always insisted he was fine. But Van could feel in his gut that it was a lie. Ed was never fine.

Somewhere in his deep, golden eyes, there was always pain present.

* * *

Van lifted his right arm to block the attack. As Ed's left arm stopped on his, he twisted his body and kicked out, delivering a solid blow into his stomach.

"Umph!" Ed staggered backwards, holding his midsection.

Van stared at him in shock for a moment, then broke out into an elated grin.

"I did it!" he yelled happily. "I did it, I hit you, I finally hi-" he never got to finish as Ed knocked him off his feet. "Gah!"

"That's what you get for not paying attention!" Edward laughed.

"You-!" Van lifted his body on his elbow, putting himself in a half-sitting half-lying position. "That wasn't fair!"

"There's no such thing as 'fair' in a fight," Ed told him, sitting on the ground next to him. "Remember, your opponent is going to use any means necessary to bring you down."

"I know… But, I finally got to hit you!" Van cheered, immensely proud of himself.

"Yeah, yeah, great job, oh high and mighty hero," Ed said sarcastically rolled his eyes, but then smiled at him. "Seriously though, that was a good kick." He rubbed his stomach.

"Ha!" Van put his right fist in the air. "Who's the sissy now, shorty?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MINATURE LITTLE BABY DOLL?!"

Somehow, they both ended up on their backs on the ground, laughing and staring in the blue summer sky.

"Good job today," Ed said. "If you keep this up, you'll be an alchemist in no time."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Ed."

"No problem."

"No really, I wanted to thank you."

"Huh?" Ed turned his head to look at him, but Van had his eyes on the sky above them. "Where's that coming from?"

"How long has it been?"

"Since when?"

"You know since when."

"Right… About seventy days, according to my calendar. Why?"

"Everything changed since then. Like… everything. For the better, I mean. Thank you."

Ed snorted. "You're awfully sappy today."

"I know… But because of you, I might actually have a future. A life." Van smiled. "I could even get married and have a family one day."

He waited a moment for Ed to respond. He frowned a bit when the silence continued, then turned his head to the side.

He met Ed's eyes, staring at him in pure horror.

Van was speechless. He'd never seen this look on his face before. He didn't even know what brought it up. What did he do? What did he say?

Ed quickly stood up and backed away, his golden orbs not leaving him, his horror unfaltering.

"Ed? What…?" Van's voice was caught in his throat. He suddenly realized: family. He was talking about family. Ed told him he had lost all of his relatives, didn't he? Oh gods. What had he done?! "Ed, I…"

Before he could finish, Ed turned away and ran inside their house.

"Wait!" Van stood up as well and chased him. "Ed! Wait, please!"

The alchemist didn't slow down. Van wasn't nearly as fast as he was, so when he got back into the house, Ed had already shut the door of his room behind him.

"Ed?" He knocked on the door. "Ed, listen! I'm so-"

" _Leave me alone!_ "

Van froze, horrified. Ed's voice. No, no way… He wasn't…

A muffled sob resounded behind the door.

He was. Van gulped.

Ed was crying. Edward Elric, the unyielding Fullmetal Alchemist who took out a group of bandits singlehandedly, was _actually crying_. And it was _his_ fault. _He_ made him cry. How could he?! How Van could have been so stupid, to forget how sensitive of a topic family was for him!

…well, it did come out of nowhere, Van barely mentioned family and had no idea why Ed reacted so violently to it, but it was still his fault. He had to fix this.

"Ed? I'm so sorry. Please, I didn't mean to-"

" _ **Just go away, dammit!**_ "

Van paused, torn. Ed sounded desperate. Part of him wanted to obey him – Van was so used to obey orders. It was even a bit tempting, to leave and let Ed calm down on his own. He had no idea how to deal with crying people, except for little Karim, but he could hardly compare a child with a scratched knee to an almost-grown-up man, mourning the loss of his loved ones. Frankly, Van was clueless what he could do to make Ed feel better. So shouldn't he listen to him?

However, there was this small voice of his conscience, whispering: _don't leave him to deal with his own. He always does that. He tires to appear strong. He never asks for help; it doesn't mean he doesn't need it._ No, Van couldn't just leave like that. He made Ed break down, the least he could do was to support him in his time of need.

Also, he suddenly remembered…

_"See? This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Ed exclaimed angrily, then sighed. "Such blind obedience."_

The first evening he spent at Ed's house, he should have stayed. He should have asked what was wrong. Now, listening to the quiet sobbing on the other side of the door, Van had no doubt that Ed cried that night. Why, he didn't know – but he wouldn't find out by choosing the easier thing. He had to confront Edward, if he was ever going to help him with his struggle.

He owed him that much.

"I won't leave," he said a bit weakly. Then he cleared his throat and repeated much more confidently: "I won't leave, Ed. Please, tell me what's wrong."

"W-what's wrong?" A hysterical chuckle came from Ed's room. "W-why w-w-would you think that s-something's wrong?" His feeble efforts to keep his voice strong failed horribly. "I'm completely f-fine, dammit!"

Van sighed. "Ed, I'm coming in."

"N-n-no!" Ed finally completely broke and cried openly, almost begging: "Just leave me alone, alright?! Please, please just leave."

Van took a deep breath, gently opened the door and peeked inside.

Ed was sitting on his bed, holding his head in his hands. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his eyes were closed tightly. He was clearly still trying to hold it in, but his ragged breathing, interrupted from time to time by a sob betrayed that he had finally lost control. He had reached his breaking point, and Van pushed him over the edge. How he had done it, Van had no clue, but seeing him like this, he was almost glad, honestly.

Van moved quietly across the room and sat next to him. Ed could feeling the mattress shift next to him and stiffened.

"W-what are you do-doing here, V-Van?!" he spat, not opening his eyes. "I told you t-to le-le-leave!"

The other teen merely shrugged, ignoring that Ed couldn't see it.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't."

"W-w-why the HELL not?!"

"Because… you said yourself that I need to make decisions for myself." Van put an arm on his shoulder. Ed tensed under his touch. "I can't be an obedient slave anymore. I have to do what's right. And I know that leaving you right now wouldn't be right."

Ed finally opened his eyes and looked at him. The view was heart-wrenching. His expression bore the deepest pain, the darkness inside his brought out to light, he looked like the whole world had been taken away from him. But Van still couldn't recognize the main emotion on his face, the one that played in his features every day. It was finally there, out in the open for him to read, and yet Van still had no idea what it was.

"D-do what's right, huh?" Ed repeated, sniffing. "Are you always like that? Always doing what you thi-think is right?" He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, two shiny tears leaving a new wet trail on his face. "D-dammit, Hohenheim. You're too damn selfless! I hate you so goddammed much."

Van bit his lip. It hurt, it really hurt to hear Ed say something like that, but he somehow knew he didn't mean it. There was anger in his voice, but it wasn't directed at him. If Van didn't know better, he would have thought Edward was angry with himself.

"D-do you have any idea how damn ironic this is?" Ed sobbed, covering his face. His shoulders trembled. Van didn't lift his hand from back. "After everything that happened, _you_ of all p-people come to-to freaking cuddle me. Truth is su-such a sadistic b-bastard."

Van had honestly no idea what he was talking about, but he did what his instincts told him: he rubbed Ed's back soothingly, as he continued his rambling.

"Why d-did it have to turn out like this? I don't u-understand it, dammit!" Ed had never sounded so young before. "I n-never wanted… all that we… what I… you… he…"

"Shhh. It's alright."

"Why, Van?" Ed grabbed his robe and looked at his with pure despair. "Just, why?!"

"I don't know," Van murmured sadly. "I'm sorry, Ed, I really don't know."

Ed's lip trembled, and something in his eyes changed. Suddenly, before Van could process what was going on, Edward buried his face into his chest and wept.

"I'm sorry!" he chocked out. "Forgive me, I'm so so-sorry!"

Van was still in surprise for a moment. When he came back to his senses, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Ed. He wouldn't dare to do that to his teacher without a permission, but he supposed Ed using his robe as a handkerchief was as good as one.

"It's alright," he whispered, shocked to hear his own voice tremble with emotion. Seeing Ed like this had shaken him more than he realized. "It's alright, Ed." He was clueless why Ed would be apologizing to him ( _shouldn't it be the other way around?_ ) but he didn't want to disturb Ed, who obviously needed to vent his emotions out.

"…all my fault…"

"It's okay."

"…couldn't protect him…"

"I know, Ed. I'm sorry."

"…I screwed up…"

"Shhh."

"I only wanted to fix things… but I m-mess up everything…"

"I'm really sorry."

Van held him tightly for a long time, whispering comforting nonsense, until Ed's half-conscious babbling subdued. He didn't notice a couple of tears escaped him too.

For once, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, he earned to call himself Edward's friend in that moment.

* * *

[My first fanart! Made by the wonderful artist [cocopots](https://cocopots.tumblr.com/post/639151815178534912/some-fanart-i-did-for-the-very-talented). Isn't it beautiful?? 🤗😍😭]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> Hello everybody, I'm back! :D
> 
> Wow, it's been a month since I've updated! Can you believe it?! I'm so sorry everyone, but I've got really good reasons for it. A lot of stuff happened to me during that time.
> 
> One, I lost all of my equipment. Don't worry, I still have all my data saved! :) But I had to give away my computer. I am, currently, completely deviceless. This chapter should have been uploaded three weeks ago, it was almost ready. However, I had nothing to edit it with. The fact that I had to move to a different country didn't help much :P Right now, I have no computer, I'm in a different country, and I will probably be unable to update regularly until the second half of August – when I get my computer back. Not to mention, I've got a lot of people pushing me to do things this summer, like traveling, having meetings, taking small jobs and stuff. And I kinda can't say 'no', because I haven't seen those people a whole year. I'm sorry, just right now, life is kind of busy for me. It's thanks to my sheer stubbornness you get this chapter so soon, people xD
> 
> So please, don't think that I'm planning to abandon my stories! Hopefully, you won't have to wait till August for my next update. It's just going to take me longer to write with this computer I'm using, it's sort of driving me crazy how bad this keyboard is, this is ridiculous. Not that I'm complaining, but it's practically falling apart :/ Oh well, I'll take what I can, I suppose.
> 
> To sum it up: I'm not dead, far from it, and I'm working on both "My Master Ed" and "Harry Potter and the Alchemist Brothers". I also want to start a third story, called "The Perfect Dream and a Living Nightmare", about an Ed from a parallel universe, but with my predicament, I don't know how soon I'll be able to do it. I just love, love, love those ideas and want nothing more than to share them with you guys :)
> 
> About this chapter, I can only say: I enjoyed writing it. I wanted to do some fluff so badly, but I didn't want to make it out of character. There's an actual reason why Ed broke like that out of nowhere, some of you can probably guess what it is.
> 
> What do you think? Please review and comment, and most importantly – read on and enjoy! See you next time, hopefully soon! :D


	6. A Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van finds out some things about Ed's brother, and about family resemblance.

Van honestly couldn't tell how much time had passed. It took Ed a good while to calm down. But even long after he stopped crying, the boy didn't let go - he held onto Van's robe tightly like a man drowning, his fists clenched on the cloth so hard, the knuckles of his left hand became white. The teen wondered is Edward was aware of it at all.

In spite of the situation, it felt bizarrely... right. The proximity was especially surreal to Van, because he couldn't remember the last time he shared a hug with anybody - or any sort of friendly physical contact, for that matter. Slaves, as their Masters' 'property,' were meant to be as 'effective' as possible - to achieve that, the slave owners often punished them for disobedience or making mistakes, which resulted in physical contact being automatically associated with pain. This hadn't really changed for Van during his stay with Ed. Sparring hurt too after all. However, there was a significant difference between Ed's and Master Roshan's punishments - minor, but significant nevertheless.

Van was always allowed to fight back.

As a slave, all Twenty Three could do when he was about to be punished, whether justly or not (the concept of his Master being _unjust_ still boggled his mind) was to submit. It made Master go easier on him. Roshan wasn't the kind of person who found entertainment in others pain, but he was indifferent to his servants suffering, just like most slave owners. Van's teacher, on the other hand, not only was always giving him a choice - " _You do what I say or I extend our next sparring session!_ " - but encouraged him to defend himself. Ed _expected_ Van to stand up to him. It gave him a completely new sense of self-value and confidence. He didn't realize it at first, but his behavior changed a lot because of this. He was no longer afraid to ask questions aloud, to make decisions for himself or to formulate his own opinions on things.

Still, it didn't change Van's image of human contact. In his mind, consoling with a touch was something mothers did for their children, and he had never experienced that. Van had been taken from his mother immediately after birth, which was a common practice. The closest he ever got while comforting a child was giving a friendly pat on the shoulder. That was basically what Van did for Ed in the beginning.

However, when Ed leaned on him in his despair, somehow Van knew what to do. Perhaps it's coded deep in human nature, a primary yet sacred instinct, passed from one generation to another. It could be called a parental inclination, or brotherly empathy, or just friendly compassion. Either way, Van understood that when a person seeks support in another, the absolute worst thing to do is to deny it. So, he remained in the awkward position they were in, patiently waiting for a sign that Ed wanted him to let go.

Ed was silent for so long Van briefly considered if he hadn't fallen asleep. He could hear the older teenager's breath though - it was much slower than when he was crying, but it didn't sound nearly calm enough to belong to a person sleeping. However, just in case he was, Van kept silent and waiting.

Finally, Ed's weak murmur reached his ears:

"Okay..." His voice was hoarse. "I'm... okay now. You can... you know..."

Van nodded and slowly released him. Ed was keeping his head low, making it impossible to see his face through the long blond bangs.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The other teen blinked, not sure what to say such uncharacteristic sincerity. "Oh, um... You're welcome, I guess?"

Ed quickly rubbed his eyes, sniffing for the last time. Even in this subdued state, he was trying to regain as much dignity as possible. Van pretended not to see it, to spare him as much embarrassment as possible. He suspected not many people ever got to witness Edward Elric in a moment of emotional vulnerability.

"Van, I..." Ed cleared his throat, but he still sounded much weaker than usual: "Listen, I... there's something... that I..."

Van tried to speak gently, but without treating his teacher like he was made of glass. The proud alchemist would hate that. "What is it, Ed?"

"There's something... something I should tell you."

"Huh?" That was highly unexpected. For some reason, Van thought that after Ed got back to his usual self, he would walk out and pretend this never happened. Was Edward actually going to **confide**? After spending so much time with the secretive alchemist, Van could scarcely believe it.

Ed lifted his head and looked at him. His eyes were still wet, red, swollen and filled with apprehension. This was not the picture of the Fullmetal Alchemist, the harsh teacher he got to know. The strong facade, the mask he'd been wearing this whole time had finally crumbled, revealing the true person underneath. Van had known - or at least suspected - but it was still very shocking to see. He stared at Ed in surprise, taking in how different his face looked with this openly painful expression.

"Ed?"

Edward opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it. He closed it after several seconds and tried again, with the same result. He let his head hang and he said something in a different language, probably a string of curses, judging by his distressed tone.

"Ed..."

"Dammit..." he switched back to Xerxesian. He hid his face in his hands, shaking his head. "Dammit, I can't."

"You can't, what?"

"I can't say it." Ed was shaking, but he didn't sound like he was about to cry; he sounded angry. "I can't say it, I just _can't_."

"Hey, it's alright," Van attempted to calm him down, the effect was the opposite of what he intended though.

"No, it is NOT!" Ed shouted, standing up abruptly. His feature twisted in pure misery. "You don't understand! **I'm not what you think I am!** "

"What?" was all the confused teen could say. 'Not what he thought he was?' What was that supposed to mean?

"I'm, I'm...!" Ed grabbed his bangs and pulled, appearing like he wanted to rip off all the hair from his head. "Argh! It's... To _hell_ with this! I can't do this! _Why?!_ Why does it have to be so damn **hard**?!" he yelled with great turmoil playing across his eyes. For a second it seemed like he was going to break down again.

Van stood up as well, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. "Ed, calm down."

" **I'M COMPLETELY CALM!** " Ed screeched with wide, bloodshot eyes.

Van deadpanned. "I can see that," he said wryly. Then he put a hand on his shoulder. "Just sit down, okay?"

Ed tightened his jaw in defiance, but complied. He looked so frustrated and hurt. It was tearing Van apart to see him like this. Whatever was the horrible secret Ed was struggling to tell him, Van decided in that moment that it was not worth it. Not if it meant Ed to suffer so much.

"Ed, I get it. You don't have to force yourself." Ed looked at him, baffled. Van frowned, making up his mind. "I don't need to hear it now. Just tell me one thing, please?"

Edward slowly nodded.

"Is it about me...? I mean," he hurried to clarify, looking on the side with shame. "Is it about something I do? Is it my fault? Did I say something tactless? Because I..."

When he looked up, Ed was staring at him in disbelief, completely aghast.

" _You?_ " he finally spoked in a strained voice. "You think _you're_ the problem? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"...So it's not my fault?" he asked hopefully.

"What?! No!"

Van sighed in relief. "Good."

"Why would you even think something like that?" for a change, it was Ed's turn to be utterly confused.

"I noticed how sometimes, you look at me in a weird way, and you seem so..." he trailed off, uncertain what word to use. Upset? No, that was not it. He still didn't understand the meaning behind Ed's expression. "I just... All I want is to make it stop."

Ed paled slightly. "You... you noticed?"

Van frowned sadly.

"Of course I did. You thought I wouldn't after a couple of months?"

The way Ed bit his lip showed that was definitely what he'd been hoping for.

"You're... observant," he said. "I was sure I was being inconspicuous."

Van blinked. "Incosu... eh?"

For the first time since they left the yard, Ed broke into a smile. "Inconspicuous. As in unnoticed."

"Oh."

"Van..." The smile slipped off his face as quickly as it entered it. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I... It had nothing to do with you. Well, uh, okay, it sort of does. But not like that!" He waved his hands frantically. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're not the problem here, it's _me_. It's always been me."

Van cocked his head in confusion as Ed made a pause.

"The reason... One of the reasons is because you remind me of someone," he finally confessed. "It's... exhilarating and agonizing at the same time, just how similar you two are."

Van was quiet for a moment, wondering if he should ask or not. It was obvious by that point that behind the mystery of the Fullmetal Alchemist was a tragedy. It must have been really terrible if Ed - the strongest, most confident, most unyielding individual Van had ever met - couldn't talk about it. Something so awful it had nearly permanently broken him. But in that instance, as his curiosity bested him, Van decided to make a risk. Ed always could just refuse to tell after all.

"Who do I remind you of?"

There was a tense silence. It stretched so much Van became convinced he was not going to answer. But just as the thought crossed his mind, Ed spoke, in a voice so tender and quiet he almost missed it.

"...my brother."

* * *

The two of them quietly walked back to their house from the market. They haven't talked since their conversation. Ed hadn't uttered a word except "Let's go eat something." The silence was uncomfortable, but Van was grateful for it right now, because he had a lot to think about.

He'd known Ed had a brother, he told him the first day, but it hadn't been mentioned since. Van wasn't sure if Ed's brother was dead, he only stated that "something bad happened to him", but it certainly appeared so. Ed said that his entire family was gone, so he either died or had been taken and sold into slavery. Although, with Edward's skills, if the latter had been the case, Ed would surely find his brother and set him free. So, it could only mean that Ed's brother was gone, permanently.

He tried to imagine how Ed must have been feeling right now, it was a very difficult task though. Van had never met his parents, not to mention siblings. It was a strong possibility Van had brothers and sisters, many of whom could have died young because the pressure of enslaved life. Van wasn't a selfish person, but it's hard to mourn people you don't even know. Ed probably loved his brother very much. How _could_ he sympathize with Edward then? Van tried to imagine the feeling of losing someone, searching his memory for anyone whose death would sadden him.

Zand? The gardener who worked for Roshan. He was a good man, but Van didn't know him that well, beside bringing him tools from time to time and wishing him a good day.

Laleh? A servant girl of the neighbors. She was kind and beautiful, anybody would be upset if anything bad happened to her, but Van didn't believe he would cry for her.

Andal? His rival. He never wished for him to die, but Van still despised him.

Ten? An elder slave working in Roshan's mansion. A patient, hard-working soul. Van definitely liked him, but he'd lived a long life. His passing was inevitable.

Roshan? His old Master. Van didn't know what he would feel if that man died. He wouldn't be _happy_ , but he certainly wouldn't be grief-stricken, either. How would Roshan's death affect him? He supposed there were some questions that didn't have answers.

In the end, Van guiltily realized he couldn't relate to Edward's situation, because there had never been a person in his life he loved. He had acquaintances, but no real friends or people who cared about him, who _cared for_ _him_. It was the reason why he wished to have a real family someday. Like every human being, all he wanted was to be happy, and he believed he would find happiness in simple family life. True, Ed inspired him to become more than that, to become an alchemist, to finally grasp the true meaning of being a free man. Still, he understood the value of family, of spending time with someone not to gain something from it, but share _yourself_ with the other person. He understood, because... that was what Ed had done for him.

This thought made him stop in his tracks and look at Ed.

"Hm?" The alchemist turned when he noticed Van stopped following him. "What is it?"

Van stared at him, shocked with his revelation.

_"...One of the reasons is because you remind me of someone... my brother."_

No, he had been wrong. There was a person whose death would affect him personally. There was someone he cared about enough to understand what Ed was going through. This entire time, he knew and hadn't realized it...

"Ed, I'm sorry."

Ed's expression was equivalent of a question mark.

"Eh? What for?"

"I'm sorry that your brother is gone," he said sincerely. "I'm sorry about your family. I'm sorry you had to go through something like this."

Ed's face in a couple of seconds changed from confused to stunned, from stunned to afflicted, and from afflicted to almost irritated.

"Why would you be sorry? You don't even know them!" he said with annoyance mixed with disbelief.

"No," Van admitted. "But I know _you_."

"So what?"

"If your brother was anything like you, and I'm sure he was, then... I regret I never got to know him."

Van watched as Ed's eyes widened, then narrowed as his features twisted in a rueful expression.

"Me too," he said hoarsely. He looked on the ground and repeated, sounding strangely apologetic: "Me too, Van."

Van reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but hesitated. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing by digging this topic, but if Ed's earlier outburst was anything to go by, it was for the better. The only way he could help Ed with his emotions, was to allow him to let them all out.

"What was his name?" he asked, retracting his hand.

Ed sighed and lifted his head, meeting his eyes again. "Alphonse."

"Sounds like a great name," said Van honestly. Ed gave him a funny look. "What?"

"Oh, nothing."

There was a thoughtful pause. Edward resumed walking and Van hurried to keep up with his pace.

"Al... he was the most caring, thoughtful, smart, incredible person that had ever existed," Ed suddenly told him, surprising Van with the open affection in his voice. Like an afterthought, he added cryptically: "Or would."

Van totally missed the significance of that comment, so he said: "He must have been an amazing brother."

"Yeah." Ed smiled, and Van inwardly sighed in relief. So he didn't make a mistake by continuing the topic. Ed still looked pretty miserable, but at least the smile he had now seemed genuine.

"Wait." Van frowned. "How can I remind you of him, then? That sounds nothing like me."

"You're more similar to him than you'll ever know..." Ed snorted like Van amused him with that comment. "...anyway, it's not just your personality. I don't suppose you-" He suddenly seemed perplexed. "Er, how should I say this... Not to sound vain or anything, have you ever studied your reflection in the mirror?"

"No..." Naturally he'd seen his own face, plenty of times - in a bucket of water. However he'd never really _studied_ his reflection, especially in something as rare and expensive as a mirror. Of course he remembered his general appearance - golden hair, golden eyes, square jaw, straight nose, pale complexion... He was as ordinarily-looking Xerxesian as could get. But he couldn't quite recall the exact arrangement of his features, not in detail anyway. "Why?"

Ed took a deep breath and looked ahead. "Then I say it's about time."

Van blinked twice in confusion. "Huh?"

* * *

Several pieces of wood were put on a chalk-drown circle.

"What are you doing?" Van watched Ed work curiously, fascinated by every display of alchemy.

"If we're going to make a mirror, we need tools first," Ed responded, putting his hands on the outline.

The circle flashed with blue sparks. A short moment later, there were two shovels with strange creatures decorating the handles.

"What are these for?" Van asked, examining the demonic-looking heads.

Ed started drawing another circle. "Ah, it's just to make them look cool."

"I'm no expert on shovels, but it looks pretty dumb to me."

The other stopped and growled. "You have something against my sense of style?"

"Style?" Van raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I don't think you have any."

" _What_ did you just say, nitwit? My style is awesome!"

"Nitwit?!" Van bristled, then grinned evilly. "Says the pipsqueak with no fashion sense even as small as himself!"

"PIPSQUEAK?!"

"Oooh, what's that? I can't hear from all that distance, with you kneeling down on the floor! Though, I suppose there isn't much of a difference when you're standing."

Ed jumped to his feet. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE CAN'T REACH TO TIE HIS OWN SHOES?!"

"That didn't make any sense..." Van said, wondering how could a person 'tie' his sandals.

"Of course it did, your idiotic head is just too full of stupidity to comprehend!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN IDIOT?!"

They argued for quite a while, and in spite of both Van and Ed being red and totally out of breath by the time their shouting match was over, they were relieved and enjoying it. Grave things had been said today. Ed's issues were so heavy, it was like the air was filled with lead. After the tension that grew between them, they really needed to reassurance that nothing changed between them. And for some weird reason, they found it in insulting each other like this. Van wouldn't be able to put it so eloquently, but he understood it well enough. That was why he provoked his teacher in the first place, not caring what kind of punishment he would receive.

When they were done, Ed said nothing about punishment though. Instead he finished his second circle and transmuted two large buckets.

"So, what are doing?" Van finally asked, curiously.

"We're going outside the city, where we can get some good sand," he explained as they headed out, with shovels and buckets in their hands. "I could just transmute the mirror there on the spot, but it could gather unwanted attention, and then we would have to carry the mirror through the city - and that would be way too much trouble."

"How big is the mirror going to be?"

"I was thinking about seven feet tall, four feet wide, maybe."

"Wow." Van gaped. He'd never seen a huge mirror like that! Probably only the king owned mirrors like that. To think Ed could just one make one on the spot...!

"Well, I've wanted a nice mirror in out living room for a while, anyway. No point in making it a cheap product."

"And then you want me to 'study' my reflection, right? Why?"

A small smirk appeared on Ed's lips. "You'll understand when I show you."

"Alright." Van shrugged. "But why do we need to go so far to get _sand_? It's everywhere."

"But not high-quality, Van. When you're an alchemist, especially a specialist with metal and stone transmutations, you learn to recognize the minerals just by looking at them." Ed grabbed a handful of sand from the ground with his left hand and showed it to him. "See this? It's mostly silicon dioxide, with some sodium, potassium and calcium compounds, and we need silver. Silver is one of the best reflective metals, that's why it's mostly used in mirror making."

"So we want silver?" Van frowned, thoughtful. "Why don't you just transmute silver from a rock? You can do that with gold, right?"

"Ah." Ed threw away the sand and looked at him. "I see I forgot to tell you the rules all alchemists need to follow. You see, transmuting light elements into heavier ones is forbidden, especially noble metals - like gold, silver, copper and platinum."

"Platinum?"

"A very rare metal, resembles silver but it's a lot harder and much more expensive."

"Hm... So, it's forbidden to make metals with alchemy?"

"Actually, only transmuting gold is illegal - you can transmute all the other elements as you please, as long as you don't sell them for profit. Besides, nuclear transmutations are hard as hell to perform, so it doesn't pay off anyway."

Van was a bit taken aback. "If it's not allowed, then why...?"

"...why do I break the rules?" Ed finished seriously. "It's a bit complicated. First, I need you to understand that I had very difficult circumstances when I came to Xerxes. I'm only sixteen, and people don't even believe _that_." His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "I looked everywhere for a job, but nobody wanted to hire me, and I couldn't flaunt my alchemy skills for various reasons. Right now I'm Roshan's unofficial research partner, but even that skinflint doesn't pay me that much, all because ' _you're only a child_ '." He was practically seething. "I was tempted to beat him up a couple of times. He's lucky I need him."

"So, you needed money," Van completely understood. He would to the same thing if he were in Ed's place. "I guess it's alright, as long as nobody finds out about it, right?"

"Wrong." Ed's firm response surprised him. "It's not alright. There's a reason why transmuting gold is forbidden - it destroys the economy. Right now, there is more gold on the market than there's supposed to be. In reality, it means that the gold is less worth than the prices say."

"...I don't get it," Van sheepishly admitted.

"The price for specific article is determined by how much cargo there is available, and how much people need it. Think about it this way: would water cost much during the rainy season?"

Van furrowed his brow in concentration. "Uh... it would cost cheap, right? Because it'd be everywhere."

"And during the drought?"

"It... it would be much more expensive!" His eyes shone in understanding. "Because it would be much harder to get, and people would need it more!"

"That's correct!" Ed commended. "That's how the market works. The more of a product there is, the less it should cost. When gold is produced by alchemists and sold without knowledge of the government, the economy is terribly thrown off. The effects aren't visible when it's just by one person, but when a lot of people do that, it's catastrophic."

"Did it ever happen in your country?"

"Oh, yes, plenty of times. And believe me, I'd never transmute gold if it wasn't absolutely necessarily," Ed sighed. "Even when I showed it to you, I always counted the exact amount of gold that I created. I'm not going to act like it's never happened, because I'm in debt to the economy. It's like borrowing money from a non-existent bank. In the future, I plan to get a job and with the money I'll save, I will buy as much gold as I've ever transmuted. Then, I'll turn it into stone and throw it away. That's how I'll cover my debt."

Van was in slight shock Ed willingly took such heavy responsibility. "That's sounds... wearisome."

"Yeah. It'll take many years, no doubt." Ed stopped for a moment to put his bucket down and wipe the sweat off his face. The sun was up and burning. Van didn't know how he could stand it with the bandages on his right arm and left leg. "At least, it's better than owing money to some egoistic jerk, who'd blackmail and threaten me to pay my charge on time." He grinned for some reason. "And there are no percents involved. It's not that bad."

"If you say so..." Something suddenly occurred to Van. "But... you used the gold to pay for me too, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Ed resumed walking. "What of it?"

"That means I'm in debt, too."

"What? No you're not!" Ed looked at him with surprise.

"Yes I am. You pay for everything I get: the food, the clothes... And the work I do for you is nothing, compared to what you've done for me." Van made up his mind. "If I help you, you'll pay the debt twice as fast."

"Hey, it's not your problem to deal with, Van!" Ed protested. "I've never even told you that transmuting gold is forbidden. You shouldn't worry about fixing my own mess."

"But I do," Van told him with a cocky smirk he learned from his teacher. "And I will help. And nothing you're going to do or say is going to stop me!"

Ed smirked back at the challenge. "Is that so, Mister Van Hohenheim?"

"Yes, Master Edward Elric," he replied mockingly.

His teacher narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"We'll see if your opinion changes after a week of extended sparring sessions, my perky pupil."

"Ha!" Van lifted his chin confidently. "I've hit you once already! I'm not afraid. Bring it on, Fullmetal Alchemist!"

Edward's toothy grin resembled a shark ready to devour its prey. "Oh, I will, Van," he promised "You can be sure of that."

* * *

They finally reached the border of the city. Ed led them to a rocky cliff, surrounded by purple-ish sand at the bottom.

"Here we are!"

Van took some sand in his hand.

" _This_ is silver?" he asked dubiously, rubbing the grains between his fingers.

"Of course it's not _pure_ silver, moron," Ed rolled his eyes. "There's silver sulfide in this stuff, and a very small amount. But it should be enough for a nice mirror. Silver sulfide is black, like coal. There's almost no pure silver in natural environment, especially on the surface."

Van nodded in understanding and they stared filling the buckets with the dark sand. When they were done, Ed announced cheerfully:

"Great work! Now, you carry the buckets and I take the shovels."

The teen's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"W-what?!"

"You shouldn't have called me 'Master' again," he told him evil glee. "You know I hate that."

"Oh, come _on_!" Van exclaimed. "You said you were giving me a full week of extended sparring sessions! Isn't that enough for you?"

Ed cackled. "I never said that was your _only_ punishment!"

Van stared at the two buckets with dread. He couldn't be sure, but there were at least a talent of weight in each bucket. Dragging them back to the city on his own was close to impossible.

"Well, go on." Ed crossed his arms expectantly. "We have all afternoon, we're not in a hurry."

The Xerxesian cried in his head to all the gods, asking what kind of terrible crime had he committed, to deserve such cruel demon to be his alchemy teacher.

* * *

Eight hours later they reached their house. It was way past supper time, Van was drowned in his sweat, thirsty, hungry and most of all, so exhausted he was sure his limbs were all going to fall off. Van had hoped that if he was going to take a long time, Ed is going to lose his patience and take one bucket from him. Unfortunately, that assumption had been wrong. Ed seemed to be absolutely delighted, watching his exertion.

"Ah, that takes me back," he said in a dreamy tone as Van breathed heavily, dragging the buckets of sand. "This is the exact the sort of thing Teacher had me and Al do every time we insulted her."

"R-really?" Van asked, not believing him. There was no way Ed's alchemy teacher was as merciless as him... right?

"Oh yeah. Except her punishments were three times as hard."

"No way," he chugged, but then he stopped and stared at Edward. " **Her**?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your teacher wa- was a w- _woman_?" he breathed out in utter disbelief.

"Sure."

"How c-could she be so- so bad, th-then?"

A dark look suddenly showed up on Ed's face.

"Believe me, her being a woman didn't matter," he shuddered in apparent fear. "She was more evil than all the demons of hell combined."

Van didn't have a choice but believe him. He shuddered as well. Maybe Ed was as bad as a demon, but _one_ demon at least. As soon as he delivered the buckets and put them down, his body collapsed on the floor.

"So... ***huff*** ...you and your... ***wheeze*** ...brother Alphonse... ***puff*** ...did this stuff... ***wheeze*** ...how often...?"

Ed sat next to him. "Once a month or so."

Van certainly hoped Ed wasn't going to do that to him so frequently. He was going to die of exhaustion with that rate.

"You look like you're going to fall asleep any second," Ed noted with amusement after a moment of silence. "We better get you to bed. We'll make the mirror tomorrow."

"Just... gimmie two minutes..." Van mumbled, his eyelids slipping down.

"No, you're half asleep already," Ed grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Come on, Van."

"One minute...?"

"Nope. We're going now."

Edward took him to his room and let him fall and his bed. It had never felt so soft before.

"What am I going to do with you, kid?" Ed's quiet, soft voice reached his ears as a blanket covered him.

"Thanks..." Van managed to mutter.

Somebody tugged his ponytail and his hair fell lose. He felt a hand brushing the tickling strands away from his face.

"You're welcome..." were the last words Van heard, before he drifted away to the dreamland.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, he knew immediately he slept in. The light falling through the window revealed it must have been near the noon. Van got out of bed and prepared himself in a rush. One of the nice things about living with Ed was that he was never forced to get up early. Ed was usually busy with his work at that time, it was Van's duty to remind him about something called 'breakfast' (honestly, Van sometimes wondered if Ed would starve himself to death if he wasn't constantly reminded by others that human beings needed regular nourishment). However, it was an unspoken rule that Van had to get up at a decent hour - unless he wanted to be woken up with ice. It happened once after an extended-sparring-session-day, and Van did not wish to repeat the experience.

Van left his room hurriedly, passing two full buckets of sand in the living room. So, Ed kept his word, Van thought happily. His teacher knew how much he loved watching him perform transmutations. Van couldn't wait for the day he would be able to do it too, even the smallest, the simplest one.

After looking around the house for a minute or two, he decided Ed must still be in his room, working on some alchemy research for Roshan. Van shook his head as he headed there. Did Ed ever took any breaks?

He opened the door and opened his mouth, prepared to say: "Sorry for being late, Ed!", but he was stopped by the most extraordinary sight.

Ed was laying on his bed, deep in slumber.

Van stood frozen for a couple of seconds, actually gaping. They've been living together for months, but he had never, _ever_ seen Ed sleeping. He had doubts Ed was capable of sleep. And behold, there he was, the Fullmetal Alchemist, snoozing like a baby.

Van couldn't believe he was thinking this, but it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

Ed's mouth was open, with some drool on his chin. His face was clear of any emotion, calm and relaxed, which never happened while he was awake. For the first time he looked completely innocent, and not just in 'not-mischievous' way - he looked like a _child_ , not the troubled alchemy genius who had lost his family. Van marveled how many new sides of his teacher he had seen in the past twenty four hours.

The sleeping alchemist was dressed in his red and black outfit, the one he was always wearing indoors - he never told Van why, but he made sure this specific dressing style was never seen by anyone else. A white-covered hand was pulling up the black cloth on his torso, reveling his stomach. One of his legs hung out, making an impression like the boy had collapsed on his bed and immediately fell asleep, before he could change his position. His hair were in total disarray.

Van didn't even try to suppress a smile as he backed away and quietly closed the door behind him.

Deciding that Ed probably hadn't eaten breakfast either, Van took some money and headed to the marked. He was still sore after dragging those buckets, but the long sleep cured most of the aches. He bought pastries, cheese, some vegetables and beans, planning to prepare breakfast himself. After the eventfulness of yesterday, he just felt like doing something nice for Ed.

He was just finishing cutting the cucumbers when Ed appeared in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"Huh? Van, you're..." he yawned widely. "...awake already?"

"Already?" the addressed repeated incredulously. "It's past noon."

Ed blinked at him sleepily. "It is?"

"Yeah, I missed breakfast too." Van took two plates to the table. "I came to your room earlier but I didn't want to wake you. When did you you go to sleep last night?"

"Right after you did," Ed said, filling his mouth in much slower pace than usual. "I don't think I've slept so well in over half a year."

"I didn't even know you _could_ sleep," Van joked, grabbing a sandwich. "How come you go to bed later than I do, and yet you're always up and working when I wake up?"

Ed stopped chewing. He looked down at his plate.

"I... I've developed insomnia symptoms lately," he said uncomfortably.

"Imsonia syploms?"

" _Insomnia symptoms_ ," Ed repeated. "I have trouble sleeping."

Van frowned. "You can't fall asleep?"

"It's not falling asleep that's the difficult part. I can't... remain asleep for very long," Ed shared, taking a small bite of his sandwich. "I usually wake up after a couple of hours or so, then it's impossible for me to go back to sleep, so I keep myself occupied."

Of course! Why he hadn't figured it out before?! Van really felt like an idiot sometimes.

"Have you visited a physician about this?" Van asked reluctantly, not convinced Ed was going to take the suggestion well.

Edward laughed bitterly.

"It's not something a physician can help me with," he said, shaking his head.

They ate in silence, both avoiding eye contact, except for Van's concerned glances from time to time. He hadn't heard about people not being able to sleep before. He couldn't imagine what would be the cause of it, except normal diseases. But Ed didn't look sick. Just tired.

"So," Ed spoke when he cleaned his plate "You ready to make that mirror?"

Van grinned happily. "Yeah!"

Ed drew a big transmutation circle in on the living room's floor, about eight feet in radius. They had to move a lot of furniture for that purpose. Then they tossed the sand into the middle.

"Hey, Ed. I just thought of something. Why did we need to go all that way to get this sand? You said all we needed was silver, right? Couldn't we just buy some on the market?"

"We could," Ed's eyes glimmered with mischievousness. "I just thought you carrying those buckets would be way funnier."

Van's jaw fell, then his cheeks grew red with incredulity and anger. "WHAT?! You little _jerk_!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING LITTLE, HUH?!"

When everything was ready, Ed kneeled and touched the chalk lines.

This was the biggest transmutation Van had seen so far. He watched with sheer awe as the sand spread, forming a huge rectangle, standing on the ground. The blue sparks reflected on the evolving object, leaving beautiful patterns of light on the walls and ceiling. If he hadn't been so eager to see the product of the reaction, he would gladly watch the display forever.

Finally, the reaction subdued. There it was, finished, a seven-feet tall mirror in a stone frame. It was decorated with floral ornaments, instead Ed's usual demonic heads, which definitely benefited its appearance. The frame looked like marble, white and polished, making it look regal enough to stand in a king's chamber. The surface was absolutely flawless, from the spot Van was standing in the reflection appeared like the real image, making an illusion of a separate room behind mirror. Van stared breathlessly at the beautiful creation.

"Not to shabby, eh?" Ed smirked at his expression. "And you said I have no sense of style!"

"It's incredible," Van shamelessly admitted, not taking his eyes off the mirror.

Ed tugged his bangs and sighed.

"Okay, this is it." He grabbed Van's arm and pulled them both in front of the mirror. "Look."

Van took in the boy standing directly in front of him. He was a tall, averagely-built teenager. His hair were a bit unruly, a couple of long strands escaped his ponytail and dangled across his face. The eyes that met his were brilliant gold and filled with wonder. He studied the complexity of the boy's features, surprised to discover that the face was rather handsome. The whole process took him several seconds. Then, he turned to the person standing on his right side.

As soon as he did, he gasped.

"You see it now, don't you?" Ed said quietly.

Van stared at the second person with shock.

Only a blind man would miss the similarity between the two boys. Both shared the exact same shade of hair-color, the same complexion, the same shape of face. There were differences, of course, their appearance was hardly identical enough for them to be considered twins. The other boy's hair was thicker and his the cheekbones were less protruding, not to mention he was shorter. But the resemblance was still striking. What shook Van the most were the eyes. His gaze darted between the two sets of golden orbs for comparison, to make sure he wasn't mistaken. But no, the eyes were definitely the same. Shape, color, eyelashes, everything.

Van immediately recalled what that vendor with pomegranate soup said, all those months ago... He'd barely paid any thought to that before, but now her mistake made perfect sense.

_"It was a natural assumption. We're around the same age and look a bit similar. You don't have to apologize just because you thought he was my brother."_

_'A bit similar' is a little of an understatement_ , Van thought with his mind reeling in confusion.

"I don't remember very well." Edward suddenly spoke, breaking Van out of his stupor. "It's been many years since I've actually seen Al's face. But..."

Van turned to Ed and wasn't surprised to see an expression full of sorrow.

"Is that why you picked me?" he asked. "Because I look a lot like your brother?"

Ed's jaw tightened. "...No," he stated firmly. "It has nothing to do with it. I was going to take you way from Roshan before I saw you. I hadn't expected..." his voice trembled, but he quickly took control of his emotions and continued: "I had no idea you would look so much like Alphonse. To be honest, I was... it spooked me. Even now, it kind of hurts."

Van was about to say something, but Ed interrupted him:

"Don't say you're sorry." The teen closed his mouth, surprised how he predicted exactly what he was going to say. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But-"

"...I'm glad, honestly."

Van raised his eyebrows. "Glad about what?"

"That you remind me of him." Ed smile was bittersweet. "Because that way, I won't forget. I will never forget."

"Isn't it sometimes better to forget?" Van asked rhetorically. Seeing Ed's incredulous and slightly outraged expression, he stared stammering: "No no wait, I didn't mean that! It came out wrong. Not your brother! The pain. I meant the pain. I meant forgetting the pain." He let out a sigh of relief when Ed's tense face relaxed. "I just wish you weren't so upset all the time."

Ed huffed. "What do you mean? I'm not upset all the time."

"Yes you are."

He didn't deny the second time. There was a long moment of silence.

"Thanks, Van, I appreciate your concern," Ed said quietly. "But I _can't_ forget. I will _never_ forget."

Van noticed his hand sliding into his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> Good news, everybody! The next chapter is the last one from Van's point of view (at least until all of Ed's side of the story so far is told), chapter 8 is going to be called "A Flashback" and you're going to find out exactly why and how Ed traveled back in time, and also what happened to Al. But no worries, the next chapter is going to be interesting too. There shall be a surprise! But no spoilers ;)
> 
> I know some of you are surely disappointed that Ed didn't tell Van yet about them being related, but patience, my friends, patience. The truth has to be revealed sooner or later.
> 
> Did anybody catch the "Avatar the Last Airbender" reference? I hope I didn't turn out too obnoxious... Sorry, I just love ATLA and couldn't help myself... xD Just google "I'm completely calm" in image search and you'll see approximately how Ed's face looked like, hahaha!
> 
> Just a reminder, a talent is50 kg = 110 Ibs, so two talents of sand in two buckets would be dragging ~100kg = 220 Ibs of weight for a couple of miles. Now you see why Van was so horrified! Ohhh, I love torturing this character... :'D
> 
> I hope I keep both of them in character, I try really hard to have all of my emotional scenes not too overboard. But if you think Ed is being too emotional, in my defense, he'd been through a lot in the last half a year. I'd like to see YOU losing the last member of your family and going several hundred years back in time without any friend whatsoever. I say he has plenty of reasons to feel a little down.
> 
> About Ed's plans with gold - you might think he wouldn't care that much, right? He's Ed, he breaks the rules a lot and doesn't give a crap when he has a goal in mind. But, he's not stupid. He knows every little thing he does affects the timeline. He's not going to risk destroying Xerxes' economy for his mission. So yes, he's absolutely serious about this. Ed is thinking through his every move on this mission.
> 
> By the way, your questions about how Ed's actions affect his and Al's existence are very valid. In fact, I'd say they are the primary issue about this whole thing. For further explanation though, you'll have to wait until future chapters. Sorry! :P
> 
> About my updates - hopefully I'll be able to write the next chapter of "Harry Potter and the Alchemist Brothers" in the next two weeks, but I'm being optimistic. I still have troubles with my equipment, but at least the keyboard works. However writing that story is a lot more work, that's why I decided to write the next chapter of "My Master Ed" first, so you could have something sooner. You're welcome! :)
> 
> Thank you very much for commenting, favoring and following my story, you have no idea how happy it makes me! :D Please read on and enjoy!


	7. An Alchemist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van Hohenheim officially becomes an alchemist. Meanwhile, Ed gets into some dangerous situations and Van is the last person to know about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter from Van's POV.  
> Next time, the story of how Ed got himself into the past.

"One is all. All is one."

Ed stood in front of his pupil with a stern expression.

"This is the most important thing you will ever learn. You are not allowed to speak until you figure it out."

Van blinked a couple of times, uncertain if he heard correctly.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"No talking!" Ed barked and Van closed his mouth immediately. The alchemist crossed his arms and explained: "When my brother and I asked our Teacher to study under her, she left us on a deserted island with only a knife and gave us a month to- _I said no talking!_ " he pointed at Van's face threateningly when the teen's jaw dropped in surprise. "-to figure out what it means. Since I doubt there are any deserted islands in Xerxes, and I don't intend to drag you hundreds of miles to the west just to dump you on one, I decided to give you an entirely different exercise."

Van, since he couldn't speak, cocked his head in silent question.

"I'm sure you don't have problems with talkativeness. After all, slaves aren't allowed to speak unless they're ordered to, am I right?" Van nodded. "Well, the reason why I want you to abstain from talking is simple. I want you to _think_." Ed tapped his own forehead to emphasize his point. "Not just do 'every day thinking', I want you to learn how to _focus on thinking_. Until you figure out what 'One is all, all is one' means, you're going to do only that and nothing else. Also, you're exempt from all the other lessons, including sparring sessions."

The teen gaped at his teacher. He was exempt from the sparring sessions?! No way. Ed was joking, wasn't he? He enjoyed beating up his student too much for it to be true. This had to be some sort of a trick…

"Remember: until you figure it out, _not a word_ to me or anyone else. And you're not allowed to ask other people to help you." Then abruptly, Ed turned around and waved at him without looking as he left. "Good luck!"

Dumbfounded, Van watched him go and wondered what the hell just happened. Ed didn't give him any warning that he would be given a task like this. When he told him to come, he expected to be given another physical exercise or something. He never thought Ed would just give him some riddle and leave him to do whatever he liked, for how long he wanted.

But as the minutes passed, boredom crept into his mind and Van wondered just what he was supposed to _do_. It was too early for lunch, he wasn't hungry anyway. He had no chores. He couldn't go to the market because Ed had forbidden him to say a word to anyone. He knew Ed couldn't supervise him all day, but cheating didn't even cross his mind – it would mean he wasn't up to the challenge, and Van refused to admit defeat.

Quickly, he made up his mind. "One is all, all is one"? It didn't sound too hard. He was going to figure it out. And he was going to do it all by himself! He was going to show Ed just how smart he could be when he wanted to!

* * *

 _WHAT THE_ _**HELL** __DOES IT MEAN?!_

Van sat on the ground, drawing with frustration in the sand. He'd been thinking for _five hours straight_ and he still had absolutely no idea what "One is all, all is one" was supposed to mean. He analyzed the sentence over and over again, but came up with nothing.

 _It doesn't even make sense_ , he thought angrily. _What does it refer to? What 'one'? What 'all'? Is it like 'one thing' and 'all kinds of things'? But one thing isn't all kinds of things! One thing is one thing and that's why it's called a thing, right? Or is it the other way around…? Gah, can't even make sense of my own thoughts anymore…_

Van laid on his back and stared at the cloudless sky. The days were still unbearably hot, but the nights had been becoming cooler lately. This summer passed faster than any other he recalled. One would think that with all the exercises Ed had put him through would make the time drag, but the opposite was true. Could that be because Van enjoyed learning alchemy? Or maybe because Edward was his teacher? He couldn't imagine studying the science under anyone else but the stubborn Fullmetal Alchemist. He wondered if he would feel the same with Roshan teaching him.

 _What am I thinking_ , he scoffed. _Master Roshan would_ _ **never**_ _teach a slave, at least not without a benefit for himself. The only person who would ever do something like that is… well, Ed._

Yes, his best and only friend, Edward Elric. After Ed revealed a glimpse of himself and his past a week ago, Van became aware of some new things about him. First, Edward possessed two distinct expressions of nostalgia. One when he remembered Alphonse, getting sad because of it ( _but was it just sadness… or something else?_ ), another when he compared Van to his younger brother. And then, he looked a tiny bit happy. It was bittersweet happiness, but happiness nonetheless.

Van thought about it and decided that he didn't mind at all. It was true, he and Edward really looked like brothers – the reflection he had seen in the mirror, which stood now in the living room permanently, proved it. He supposed it would have bothered him a little if Ed had chosen him to be his friend solely for that reason, but the alchemist told him already that it wasn't the case. Ed freed him and took him in and taught him, but never treated him like a replacement for his late brother.

Another thing he noticed was how Ed, despite his loneliness, was utterly devoted to those he loved. Yes, Van knew since the beginning that Ed must have missed his family a lot. Yes, he admired the strength his teacher had shown, being left alone in the world. But only when Ed said those words:

" _I'm glad, honestly… That you remind me of him. Because that way, I won't forget. I will never forget."_

It was only then that Van truly realized it. Edward would do anything people he cared about; absolutely _anything_ , and he would never abandon them. So, Van Hohenheim concluded – somehow, unbelievably – _he_ became one of those people too.

Van had been right. Edward was the very definition of a true friend.

 _I can't let him down_ , his furrowed his brow in determination. _One is all and all is one. I'm going to figure out what it means and become an alchemist. Then I'll work with Ed and help him take care of the gold debt he told me about… and maybe one day, I'll pay for everything he had done for me. Equivalent Exchange._

This idea provoked some other observations he hadn't considered before.

 _For an alchemist, Ed doesn't care much about Equivalent Exchange. It's so strange… Losing a mother, a father and a brother, traveling to a different country all on your own… that's harsh. What happened? Why doesn't he have more friends? I bet he could befriend anybody if he tried…_ A smile crossed his face … _as long as they don't call him short._

All of a sudden it occurred to him that until he solved the riddle, he wouldn't be able to bicker with Ed and the thought caused him to frown in displeasure. _That won't do. Somebody's got to tease him about his height! I hate seeing him sit around sulking… not to mention that his reactions are just too entertaining._

The sound of footsteps interrupted his musings and Van turned his head to see that the shorty himself had returned for him. He expected Ed to finally call him for lunch (his growling stomach informed him it way past the time), but the alchemist just smirked at him and left again.

Van watched him until he disappeared from sight, baffled by his teacher's unusual behavior. Ed wasn't going to talk to him either? That was… not exactly unexpected, he supposed, but it still surprised him.

 _So I need to solve the riddle to speak with Ed at all?_ He wondered as he got up from the ground and followed Ed into the house. _I don't think I like this…_

When Ed said earlier that there wouldn't be any sparring sessions as he was solving the riddle, he thought it was more a reward than a punishment. But now, he was starting to change his mind. He had a hunch that Ed being quiet and avoiding any contact with him would quickly get on his nerves…

* * *

… _I hate this_ _ **so, so much**_ , Van thought bitterly on the tenth day.

Who would have thought that Ed could be so _persistent_? His teacher saw him only three times a day, never speaking a word to him, just showing up to make Van realize that it was meal time. And gods, Van was so sick of it. It wasn't just that he couldn't talk to anybody, rather that Ed was ignoring him and seemed completely fine, like Van didn't even exist.

He wanted nothing more but to shove the riddle down the alchemist's throat, he was so annoyed, but at the same time, he felt determined to figure it out by himself.

 _I can do it_ , he tried to reassure himself. _He said that he had a month to solve it, right? And it's been only a week and a half. I still have time._

It's just that he didn't _want_ to wait a month to talk with Ed again. Hell, he'd gladly have a sparring session with him at this point!

_One is all, all is one. Think, think, think, think!_

His head felt like it was going to burst, but he still couldn't understand. Such a simple phrase, yet it was driving him insane! Just **what** did it mean?

* * *

 _That's_ _ **it**_ _, I can't take it anymore_ , Van determined as he paced in front of the mirror, frustrated beyond belief. _I've got to figure this out, and I need to do it_ _ **now**_ _._

It was the twelfth day and he felt like he hadn't done any progress. So far, he had only concluded what "One is all, all is one" **didn't** mean. Currently he was willing to admit that he was desperate to find an answer, however, not just because he wanted to talk with Ed again.

Edward wasn't... well today.

It wasn't the usual strangeness that Van already got used to – no, that wasn't it at all. Ed was always upset at least a little bit, no matter how well he was hiding it, but today was different. The worst case of different.

In the morning, Van wasn't suspicious when Ed didn't come early to 'announce' breakfast time with his trademark smirk. He thought that the alchemist just got caught up in his work again. But as the sun crept higher and higher in the sky, the teen slowly became worried. Eventually he came to Ed's room and knocked on the door.

The only answer was silence.

Van, not surprised by the lack of response, opened the door without hesitation and peeked inside, fully expecting to see his teacher at his desk working furiously, totally lost to the world. What he _didn't_ expect was to find the room in absolute chaos, with papers and writing utensils laying on every possible surface. There was also a strong scent of oil in the air, although Van deemed it irrelevant – it was hard to pay attention to details like that when Ed curled up on his bed, his expression so lost and hopeless as if the very will to live had been drained from him. His face was grey like ash, dry but traces of tears where clear on the dirty cheeks. To sum it up, he appeared to be the embodiment of utter misery. He had never looked this bad, not even when he cried three weeks ago. Van's throat clenched painfully at the sight so he wouldn't be able to say anything, even if he tried.

As soon as Ed realized his presence, he calmly got up and without even a glance in his direction passed him, disappearing in the hallway, a glint of silver shining between the clenched fingers of his left hand. Van was seriously tempted to disobey his teacher and call after him, but he had a feeling that even if he did, it wouldn't do much. Ed made it clear the last thing he wanted right now was his company.

Still, he had to do _something_. Considering that they didn't communicate at all for almost two weeks, he had no clue what could have happened to cause this, much less how to help.

Van cursed mentally and fastened his pacing. _One is all, all is one. Dammit, think, Van Hohenheim! It's sounds so simple, so it probably is simple, right…? Unless… it's a trap and you're_ _ **supposed**_ _to think it's simple while it's not…_ He stopped and rubbed his temple tiredly. Well, all things considered, Ed's exercise was working; he did more thinking in twelve days than he had done in the past twelve years.

He looked at his reflection, absorbing the features while scrutinizing his own thoughtful expression. _"The most important thing you will ever learn", he have said. It's got to do something with alchemy, right? But… alchemy's_ _main principle is 'Equivalent Exchange'…_

"Humankind can't gain anything without giving something in return," he whispered to himself what had been hammered into his brain over the months. "To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. This is the first and most important law of alchemy." _There's got to be a clue there… just what is it?_

His fingers trailed the cold, sooth glass.

* * *

Fifteen days.

Ed was better now, luckily. After he left that day he was gone for so long, Van actually started preparing to go into town to look for him. His test be damned, he couldn't let his friend stumble around the city, alone and in the dark, while he was like this. Something bad might have happened to Ed. Even with his fighting skills, Van sincerely doubted he was able to fend anyone off in such state of mind. But just as he headed towards the door, Edward himself showed up, soaking wet for some unfathomable reason.

"Hey…" he smiled weakly at him. At least it seemed to be an honest smile. "Sorry it took me so long…"

That was all he said. Before he headed straight to his room. An hour later, Van quietly sneaked in and much to his relief, the small alchemist was snoozing peacefully.

This event scared Van quite a bit though. He started thinking what would have happened if Ed didn't come back.

_I'd be lost. I wouldn't know what to do. I'd be lonely. It would hurt a lot. Ed's my only friend. I don't want to lose him. If something happened to him, I would never forgive myself that I couldn't have helped him…_

… _but…_

Van watched the city through his window. The weather was lovely today. A couple of clouds came, decorating the light turquoise sky with feather-like smudges. Ed had long informed him that clouds where just water, however he imagined reaching out for them and discovering they were soft under his fingers. A lone bird soared in his vision, making a hasty return to his nest on the nearby roof. An understanding gradually dawned on him.

… _the world would still be going,_ he realized with a slight surprise. _No matter what happens to us, everything else is going to remain just the way it is. The world is so big while we're so tiny and insignificant. All things… made out of smaller things…_

His eyes grew and he stood up with a cry: "I got it!" He ran out of his room, shouting excitedly. "Ed! I got it! Ed!"

Van burst into Ed's room. "I got it, Ed, I got it!" he exclaimed happily like a little kid.

"Hm?" Ed looked up from his work and put his chin on his fist. "You did? Well, let's hear it then."

The teen took a deep breath. "The 'all' means everything, the world. The 'one' means the other things. Like people. One is all because we're a part of the world, everyone. All is one because the world is made out lesser things – people included – and without them it wouldn't exist. All things are…"

"…connected," Ed finished for him, a proud expression on his face.

"Yeah," Van breathed out, his grin growing wider.

"Congratulations, Van. You passed." The alchemist's smile became teasing. "Took you long enough though."

" **What?** " Van looked at him indignantly. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?! You said it took _you_ a whole month to figure it out!"

"I never said it took me a whole month!" Ed laughed. "Al and I figured out what it meant before the time was up, but we couldn't leave the island before Teacher came back for us. It was a part of our survival training after all."

"I'm still pretty sure I did it faster than you!"

" _You_ didn't have to deal with extreme hunger at the same time. All I told you to do was to keep your mouth shut. Wasn't too hard, was it?"

"It was horrible! Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to call you a runt and _couldn't_? That was pure torture!"

" **WHAT!** " Ed jumped to his feet, red-faced. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SPEC SO TINY IT COULDN'T BE SEEN UNDER A MICROSCOPE!"

"YOU, THAT'S WHO!" Van replied unintimidated. "And what's a microscope anyway?"

"Oh no, I am **not** telling you that, you empty-headed idiot!"

"IDIOT! I SOLVED YOUR STUPID RIDDLE IN HALF THE TIME YOU DID, SHORT STUFF!"

"DID **NOT**! AND I AM NOT SHORT, DAMMIT! I'M YOUR TEACHER AND YOU'RE GOING TO RESPECT ME, GOT IT?!"

"WELL, I JUST SPOKE THE TRUTH, DIDN'T I, _MASTER_?"

"THAT'S IT, HOHENHEIM! YOU, ME, SPARRING GROUND! **NOW!** "

Even when he ended up all covered in dirt and bruises barely an hour later, Van had absolutely no regrets.

* * *

Van Hohenheim thought Ed had been pushing him hard before he solved the riddle. He was proven wrong very quickly.

Immediately after he was made aware of what Ed called 'the ultimate truth of alchemy', his teacher decided it was high time for his mind to be trained at the same pace as his body, if not faster. In the following weeks, Van was taught Xerxesian alphabet, the periodic table, all kinds of symbols and structures used in alchemy and also – the basics of Ed's mysterious native language.

Ed explained to him that Amestrian had the same roots that Xerxesian had, but the language itself – especially spoken Amestrian – was a bit more complex. Some grammar structures were completely altered, making it very hard for the student to grasp. But Van was just as stubborn as determined and bit by bit, he learned and memorized everything.

It didn't take much observation skills to notice that Edward was immensely proud of him. Van started to catch his discrete, impressed looks more often and they filled him with warmth inside. It almost felt like… being a part of a family – something he never had. Admittedly, it was a strange, two-member family where a person barely a year older than him acted simultaneously as his mentor, big brother, best friend and at times, even father. Yes, a father. That one took Van longer to realize than the others, but after some consideration, he figured that if Ed was a few years older than him, he could easily picture him as one. How else to describe someone carefully watching over him, providing a home without demanding anything in return? Ed might have been just a teenager just like himself, but even with his predicable outbursts at his height being insulted or childish disgust of all kinds of milk (something Van really didn't understand at all), his skills, knowledge and melancholy made him seem a lot older most of the time.

He never mentioned it to Ed though. He had a feeling his teacher would either laugh at the idea, feel insulted and rant for hours at Van for insinuating that he was 'an old man'… or _worse_. Ed could become upset again, which was the last thing Van wanted.

Still… It was a strangely nice thought. Having a father. What was it like?

Van knew he shouldn't desire such things. But gradually his curiosity about the subject grew, until one day he gathered his courage and asked the unsuspecting alchemist at breakfast:

"Hey, Ed… What was your father like?" Van worded his question carefully.

Apparently it was a very lucky coincidence that Ed wasn't drinking at the time, because if his startled expression was anything to go by, he would have surely spit-taken.

"H-HUH…?!" He gaped, completely dumbstruck. _'Where did_ _ **that**_ _come from?'_ was written all over his face.

Van sighed. He had a feeling this wasn't a good idea, but he just couldn't help his need to know.

"I was just wondering. You remember your father, right? You said he… 'left'. But what was he like before that?"

Ed finally got over his shock and closed his mouth. Then he blinked and frowned.

"Why do you ask?" His tone was very cautious.

Van looked at his plate thoughtfully. "I'm curious, that's all." He took a bite of bread. "I was thinking what having a dad is like... since I never got to meet mine. But if you don't want to tell me, I understand."

Ed's eyes became wide in some realization.

"Um…" He shifted in his seat. Then he took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, probably thinking over what to say. Finally, he swallowed and spoke: "I don't remember much from that time, to be honest. I was only four years old when… _that_ happened and my mom died two years later."

"So, you haven't seen him in… what, twelve years?" Van asked with slight disappointment. It seemed Ed didn't know what it was like to have a dad either.

"Not exactly." Ed looked very uncomfortable and he was avoiding eye contact. "I met him recently."

Van was surprised. "He's alive?"

Ed snorted. "Oh yes, he's very much alive." He took a sip of water from a glass. "Our 'reunion' was… well, it was really, really awkward. We met at mother's grave."

"Huh." Even Van had to admit that it presented a very awkward scenario. "What did he say?" Instantly, Edward's face darkened. Van quickly backpedaled: "You know what, never mind. I don't need to know…"

"No, it's fine." In spite of his words, Ed seemed tense. "What he said… it hurt, but there was some truth to it." His head lowered over the table, making it impossible for Van to see his expression as he continued to speak. "I didn't see it at the time, I was so angry with him. I mean, the father who abandoned us over a decade ago returns like nothing happened, like there's still something for him _to come back to_ even though our family had long been torn apart, what else was I supposed to feel? And he was acting just as cold and distant as I remembered him." A visible shiver ran through his shoulders. "I couldn't… I didn't know _how_ to _feel_. All this time I was mad at him for _not being there_ , not just for me but for mom and Al too. She died waiting for him and he didn't come. Not even for her funeral! I hated him so much because when we needed him most, he **just** … **wasn't** … **there**!"

Ed's right fist punched the table at the last syllable, making all the dishes clatter. His glass of water, standing on the edge, fell off and shattered loudly, water and bits of glass spilling over the floor. Van flinched, but didn't say anything, guessing that it would be better to just listen and let Ed spill what he must have been keeping in for a _very_ long time.

"And then the bastard had the audacity to tell me that _I_ ran away! Like he had not been doing that for _years_! And that I acted like a child! And dammit, he – he left _again_!" Ed was seething so much it was starting to scare him. "He didn't even bother to say where he was going! Not that I cared. I was happy to get rid of him. I **was**! It's not like… it's not like I needed him anymore… not like I _ever_ needed him!" Even Van couldn't overlook the clear contradiction in Ed's speech, but he kept quiet. "I never wanted to see him again. But I did and-"

Suddenly all anger evaporated from Ed, his shoulders sank and his head fell even lower, almost touching the surface of the table. He was dead still for ten seconds, before he spoke again.

"He wasn't… He was nothing like I expected him to be." His voice was thick with some emotion Van yet again couldn't identify. "I thought… I just wanted to hate him, to have someone to blame for everything, but… I c-couldn't…" He buried his head in his hands. Van felt so awful seeing his friend in pain, but he knew it wasn't the time to comfort him. He just sat and listened. "Because I realized that he… he actually… **cared**. And now, _especially_ now… _Goddammit_ this is so freaking ironic it's not even funny…!" He took a deep breath. "Now I understand and I _can't_ hate him anymore. All this time I wanted to hate him because it was so much easier to blame someone else for my mistakes – but it's _nothing_ compared to-"

His voice broke and he couldn't talk anymore. He wasn't crying – at least he didn't seem to be, Van couldn't tell for sure with his hands covering his face – but it was too much for him.

Van quietly stood up, took his chair and sat next to Ed. Without hesitation, he gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

Ed stiffened in surprise at first, even though it wasn't the first time, as apparently he hadn't been expecting this. Slowly but surely, he relaxed, melting into the compassionate embrace and wrapped his arms around his friend. His head on his shoulder, he murmured something in his native language.

"What was that?" Even with his basic knowledge of Amestrian, Van didn't have a clue what Ed just said. Although, he wasn't sure it was directed at him at all.

Ed sighed. "Nothing…"

Van didn't press the issue as something else caught his attention. He'd never held Ed as close as this, not even that one time when he cried – not that it bothered him. But it occurred to him that he hadn't touched Ed's right shoulder before and now that he did, there was something… _wrong_ with it.

Ed's shoulder didn't feel right – his whole arm didn't. Of course he'd noticed how stiff and hot it was compared to the other one (how could he _not_ notice), however, until now he didn't realize just how huge the difference was. His two hands were placed on his friend's back and the contrast was a bit shocking. Van's left palm could feel the warmth of skin under Edward's robe, the strong muscles beneath barely yielding, but it was undoubtedly flesh. His right hand though, what was under it, that couldn't be flesh. It was… he didn't know _what_ exactly, but it was hard, it was rigid and it felt just wrong – like it wasn't a part of Ed's body (his nose caught the scent of oil… again. What did Edward use oil for?). Van didn't dare to further examine the shoulder blade, although he could tell that the shape was off too. He wondered what could possibly had happened to Ed to cause something like this.

The teen opened his mouth to ask about it, then abruptly he changed his mind. He would ask someday – just not now. Ed didn't need to be questioned about his body, he needed a friend _just_ _to be there for him_. Besides, with the way Ed's past weighted on him, Van wasn't completely sure he _wanted_ to know.

Just as Van pressed his lips together in the silent decision, Ed shifted and pulled away. Van had been right – Ed didn't cry this time. His eyes were dry. But his expression…

"Thanks," Ed said with a ghost of a smile on his saddened face. "Sorry about this, I'm being so pathetic over something like that-"

"Pathetic?" Van repeated with disbelief. Never had the word crossed his mind when he thought of his teacher. Even in his most vulnerable moments, Edward Elric was the exact opposite of such term. "Ed, you're not pathetic!"

"Yeah, whatever…" The alchemist shrugged, but his tone was too bitter for it to be a convincing show of indifference. "It's not like I can't even _talk_ about this stuff without losing it…" Ed laughed humorlessly. Then he looked away. "I hate how weak I've become… especially around you…"

"But you are the strongest person I know!" Van exclaimed honestly. Upon Ed's doubtful look, he added: "Not just physically, you're strong on the inside too. 'To train the mind one must train the body', right? And I've never seen anyone who trains more than you!"

Ed smiled, _really_ smiled. "Thanks, Van."

The teen beamed, pleased to see his teacher acting more like himself.

"Sooo…." He looked down and noticed his foot was standing in a puddle of water, mixed with broken bits of glass. Good thing he didn't walk barefoot inside the house, it wouldn't have ended well.

"Oh." Ed kneeled down to examine the damage. "It'll be a quick repair. Although…" He lifted his gaze and met Van's, an idea shining brightly in his fiery-golden eyes. "Would you like to try fixing it yourself?"

Van gasped in surprise. This was the first time Ed offered him a chance to use alchemy himself. "You serious?"

"Sure!" Ed grinned. "If you manage to draw the array, I don't see why not." The light in his eyes turned into a mischievous glint. "As long as you remember that there's a difference between an oval and a circle, that is…"

"Hey!" Van crossed his arms indignantly. "I've been _practicing_ , you know!"

"Suuure you have. Let's see it, Mr. Crushed Partridge Egg."

Van growled angrily and snatched the piece of chalk from Ed's extended hand. _You want a circle? I'll show you a_ _ **circle**_ _!_

With newly-found determination, he crouched and began to draw in a dry spot next to the puddle. Ed watched his every movement, but instead of becoming nervous under the scrutiny, Van progressed faster – _I'm going to show him_ , he thought, too busy to notice that his hands weren't shaking at all, or the lack of worry that he wouldn't get it on his first try.

After the circle was done, he looked it over and with great surprise, he observed no distortions or quivery lines. He glanced at Ed for confirmation. The Fullmetal Alchemist actually looked pleasantly surprised.

"Good job," he said, blinking twice to make sure his eyes were seeing correctly. "You actually did it. On your first go, too."

A grin spread over Van's face. "Yes!" He cheered, raising his hands in victory. "I knew it! I'm so awesome!"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that kid."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Ed chuckled in response, but Van didn't miss the proud glimmer in his eyes. He began explaining what kind of array was needed to fix this kind of glass. After the careful instructions and from the master-alchemist, Van began drawing and connecting the lines inside the circle. Fortunately, that part was much easier so be wasn't scared he'd mess it up and would have to start over. Fifteen minutes later, the array was ready – and so was Van, his eager hands waiting on the edge of the circle.

"Focus. Remember the three steps – Understanding, Deconstruction and Reconstruction. If you become distracted, there could be a rebound."

"Rebound, right." Van repeated obediently. "But it's not common, right? You said that there shouldn't be any rebounds in small transmutations like this…"

"True, there shouldn't be any harmful ones, but just because it won't chop off your limb doesn't mean you shouldn't be extra careful. Also, when you're inexperienced, you must _always_ take all possible risks into account – there's nothing more dangerous for an alchemist than underestimating the power of his own reaction."

Van paused, then looked at Ed.

"Rebounds can _chop limbs off_?" he asked in mild shock. Ed hadn't told him that.

Ed frowned. "It's rarely the case, but like I said, you must take all possible risks into account. And I mean _all of them_." He lifted his hand in what seemed like an unconscious movement and rubbed his right shoulder. "I wouldn't let you do anything dangerous like that, but trust me – in alchemy, plenty of unpredictable things can happen, in the last moment you expect them to." He looked at Van very seriously. "That's why you never, under _any_ circumstance, perform a transmutation unless you thought everything through _and_ you're confident you know the limits of your array. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes sir!"

"Good. Let's get started, then."

Van directed his eyes onto his circle, his heart beating faster in his chest. This was it. His very first transmutation. Today, he was truly becoming _an alchemist_.

Focusing on the round, perfect shape of the glass before it had shattered, he focused his energy, calculating the ratios and elements just like Ed had taught him. Immediately he felt a distinct, unpainful tug in his gut and blood rushed in his veins with excitement. Blue sparks erupted from the circle and he had to use every bit of restraint he owned not to lose his grip over the reaction in his exhilaration.

He watched the bits of glass deconstruct one by one, then reconstruct together, forming a transparent cylinder. Sweat poured over his forehead but he paid in no mind, focused solely on his transmutation.

Finally, it was done and the light faded. Van was still for a moment longer, before he sat on his heels and exhaled deeply.

"It worked," he said in a daze. "It really worked."

"Quite nicely, too," Ed agreed, gently picking up the newly-transmuted object to examine it up close. "No transmutation marks."

"Really?"

"See for yourself."

The teacher handed the product of a first transmutation back to his student, who grabbed it with his slightly trembling hands. Ed was right, it looked perfect. Round and thin and smooth, there were no visible defects. Van looked in awe.

"I did it, didn't I…? I actually performed a transmutation. I'm an alchemist." He turned to Ed with a grin. "I'm an alchemist!"

Ed grinned back and patted him on the shoulder, the conversation they had before all forgotten now. Van thought it had to be the greatest day of his life.

He really was an alchemist now.

* * *

Those who had known him as slave number Twenty Three, they wouldn't recognize the young man who strode confidently through the market.

His hair was nicely pulled back together, a couple of stray bangs still hanging in front of his face but in a more dignified way than in the past. His robes, even if mid-class citizen, were new and clean. His stature and posture were now impressive for his age – the once slim, tall body became muscled over the months of hard training. The dust that had been always covering him due to sweeping was gone, revealing a handsome face and eyes shining with knowledge and insatiable curiosity. Twenty Three was no more. He was now Van Hohenheim, a free man, a scholar, an alchemist, the student of Fullmetal Alchemist, one of the greatest – if not _the_ greatest – alchemists that had walked the earth.

He was a person with a bright future ahead of him, one who eagerly awaited it.

"Good morning, ma'am," he greeted the vendor he recalled to be the very same woman who was selling pomegranate soup the day he met Ed.

"Hello, dear boy," she smiled friendlily but there was no recognition in her eyes. It was only the testament of how much Van had changed over the months.

"No pomegranate soup today?" he asked with a wink.

"No, I'm afraid not…" she said a little surprised, scrutinizing him in confusion. After a long moment, she blinked. "I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I am not sure I remember where, though… I'm sorry, dear boy, age does affect your memory sometimes."

"My friend and I came to you once and bought some pomegranate soup," he reminded her. "You mistook us for brothers."

"Oh!" She put a hand to her mouth in understanding. "I remember now! You're Ed's freedman, aren't you?"

"Ed's?" Van repeated curiously. He was surprised that the woman remembered the name after all this time. Also, there was strange familiarity in the way she spoke his name without hesitation.

"Yes, isn't he just wonderful?" she smiled warmly. "I've seen him twice since then, actually."

"You have?"

"Of course! And what a generous person he is! He asked me how was my business going and I told him about my daughter, Caiya. My poor, sweet child, she already has so much on her head with raising two kids practically on her own – her husband is always so away, although I'm sure he doesn't want to be. Caiya is a florist, you know. She grows the most beautiful flowers in all of Xerxes, in my opinion, but her business had been going slow for a while. When I told Ed – gods bless his soul – do you know what he did?"

"What?"

"He went to her shop immediately and bought almost half of it! Can you believe it?"

Van stared at her. Even _he_ didn't think Ed would do something random like that. "He did? But… what have he done with all the flowers?" He couldn't recall Ed ever bringing any flowers with him.

"I don't know. All I know that Caiya and I are in his debt. I insisted on paying him back somehow, and you know what he told me? 'Don't mention it, ma'am, it's nothing really.'"

"That does sound like him," Van mused, while thinking: _Seriously,_ _ **a half of a flower shop**_ _? What did he do with the flowers? Ed doesn't seem to be the sentimental type, but I'm pretty sure he didn't just throw them away…_

"And that's not the only thing he did," the vendor continued. "Have you heard of Gidalush? He used to be a chef in the royal palace for a while. They fired him after he gave food to a starving Xingnese traveler for no charge."

"That's too bad…"

"I know! How is that fair? I'm sure I would have done the same thing, but they threw him out and he was jobless. But I heard that about three weeks ago, one of the His Majesty's councilmen hired him. Any guesses who's responsible for that?"

The teen's eyes widened slightly. "No way."

"Yes, it was him again! I only know about his involvement because Gidalush's father is a good friend of mine. But I also heard some interesting rumors going around… about a dangerous mugger caught by 'a mysterious individual', a ruined house miraculously rebuilt, a scamming trader exposed… People don't believe me, but I have a feeling Ed's behind all of those as well."

Van was overwhelmed. He had no idea… Ed never told him any of this. Sure, he was gone almost every day for a couple of hours to meet Roshan and all, but he never suspected Ed to be doing things like that while away and never mention them to him. It wasn't like Ed was too shy or modest to brag about his achievements – he had told him about the time he defeated a group of bandits with unhidden glee.

Although, now that he thought about it…

 _Ed never made a big deal out of it. He always acted like it was nothing. "It wasn't that hard, there were only five of them"… yeah, right. And I bet that he bought 'only' a half of a poor woman's store, 'only' found a ruined man a job at the home of one of the most influential people in the country, 'only' got a dangerous criminal arrested, 'only' fixed some people their house with alchemy…_ He shook his head in disbelief.

"You're right," he said aloud. "He is incredible, isn't he."

"I bet you know better than me, don't you," she smiled at him. "I remember you saying he bought you for a talent of gold and gave you freedom for nothing in return."

"Yeah… And not just that. I actually live in his house now. He's teaching me how to read and write and… he…" His eyes became distant as he thought about everything Ed had done for him. And he wasn't the only person he had helped, it seemed. It only made him admire his teacher more. "I can't even begin to describe how much I owe him. But he doesn't want any gratitude."

"I wonder who his family is," the woman said thoughtfully. "I know many people in the city, but I've never heard about him before… He has to be of royal blood, hasn't he?"

"His family…" Van sighed sadly. "His family is all dead. Except for Ed's father, but if I understood correctly he's gone off to somewhere far away and won't be coming back for him."

The vendor gasped in horror. "No…!" Van nodded slightly to confirm the tragic truth. "I can't believe this… But… I guess it makes sense, after what he said that one time…" she trailed off uncertainly. Seeing Van's inquiring look, she continued with slight hesitation: "I wasn't planning on telling anyone about this, but since you're his close friend, I guess it won't hurt. You see, I bumped into him a couple of weeks ago. I didn't even recognize him at first, he was all wet from top to bottom." Something stirred in the teenager's memory. "I asked him what happened but he didn't want to tell me. I offered him my shawl to at least dry his face. Eventually he said that he jumped into the river."

"What?" Van said incredulously. "He _jumped_ into the river?! Why?"

"That's exactly what I asked. He mumbled something under his nose that he 'just went for a swim' or something, but I didn't believe him. I invited him to come to my house to dry off, but he seemed to be in a hurry. Said something about being late. But before that, I heard him muttering… I don't know what exactly, I didn't understand most of it. Something about 'it's all my fault, couldn't keep the promise' and things about his brother. I thought he was talking about you at first, but then I remember that you're not really related, are you? I admit you could have fooled me, you two look more alike than most siblings I've seen…" Realizing she was getting off topic, she shook her head firmly and finished: "Still, he looked really sullen that day. I was worried about him."

He remembered it. It was clear to him like yesterday. It was the twelfth day since he Ed had given him the riddle. Ed disappeared for an entire day and he was worried sick about him.

 _He jumped into the_ _ **river**_ _? What the hell?_ He rubbed his forehead. _I guess that explains why he was wet. But I don't understand… why would he even…?_ A feeling of dread slowly filled his stomach. _No, no way… it's not possible…_

"Thanks for telling me," he spoke not looking at her anymore. An icy fear spread in his insides and he knew he couldn't stay here a minute longer. "I… I need to go. I have to talk to Ed."

The woman smiled approvingly. "You do that, dear boy, and please tell him hello from me and Caiya."

"Sure thing," he said quickly and left the market, dark thoughts buzzing in his head.

* * *

"Van, you're back! You got the ham?" Ed greeted him, cutting the bread for their breakfast.

Van shook his head. "No, sorry. I need to talk to you."

"What?" The alchemist looked up at him in surprise. "Wait, what happened?"

The teen walked over to the table and leaned on it. He took a deep, calming breath before turning to his teacher.

"I met someone one the market. A friend of yours."

"A friend?" A confused frown creased Ed's forehead.

"Yes, and we talked for a bit." He pierced the alchemist with a glare and cut straight to the chase. "She told me you jumped into a river."

Ed parted his lips in shock and stood still for a moment.

"Ed," Van strained out, struggling to keep his composure. "Why did you do something **stupid** like that? Don't you know how dangerous Euphra is? You're lucky we're still in the dry season, you could have _drowned_!"

Edward closed his mouth and turned away with a scowl.

"It's none of your concern," he said angrily.

"Like hell it isn't!" Van snapped. "Tell me, did you do it willingly? Did you jump into the river _on purpose_?"

"So what if I did?" Ed asked challengingly.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I said, it's none of your damn business!"

"You are my friend and apparently you tried to kill yourself – of course it's my business!"

"I didn't- I wasn't-! I could never do that!"

"So why the heck did you jump, Ed?!"

"BECAUSE I FELT LIKE IT, OKAY!" he screamed, leaning into his face. "I knew how to save myself! I didn't die!"

"But you still jumped, you idiot! You could have died!"

"But I didn't!"

"What if you _did_? Did you think for a moment what I would have done if I found out that my best friend killed himself and I didn't prevent it?!" Van yelled, momentarily shocking Ed into silence. "For the rest of my life I would be blaming myself, that I didn't help you, just because of some dumb _test_! You have no idea how worried I was, do you? You looked like a dead man walking that morning and you left without telling me where to or why! Were you planning on killing yourself in secret so I wouldn't be able to stop you? You think I don't care about you? Didn't you think about me at all? How could you be so selfish?!"

" _ **You're the only reason I couldn't do it, you moron!**_ "

The world was dead still for the moment. The two golden-haired teens stared at each other, both startled by the words that had been said.

"Damn…" Ed interrupted the silence. "I wasn't supposed to tell you this."

"What?" was all Van managed to say.

"I… I'm sorry. It's just… I…" Ed clenched his teeth in indecision.

"What do you mean, I'm the only reason?"

Ed shot him a wounded, desperate look, silently begging for Van to drop this. But it was too late for those words to be taken back.

"I don't understand…" Van grabbed his head to process this. "So if it wasn't for me waiting for you to come back… you would…?"

The alchemist took a sharp breath and quickly shook his breath. "Van, listen." His voice was hoarse. "I would _never_ do that to you. I made a promise to teach you alchemy and I intend to keep it. Just because I…"

"Do you _wish_ to die, Ed?" Van interrupted him with a terrified whisper.

Ed flinched violently. "I…"

Van stared at his friend like he was seeing him for the first time and honestly, he felt like he was. This unintended confession showed Ed in a whole different light. He had thought he understood Ed's hurt and sadness to an extent, but apparently he didn't. He heard stories about people taking away their own lives… But those people were mad, completely and utterly insane, sick to the point that they couldn't control their actions. However Ed wasn't crazy. He strong, vibrant, brilliant, wise, kind-hearted… How could _he_ wish for death? Why wouldn't he want to live? _Why?_

Finally, Ed's broken voice interrupted the silence.

"I don't want to die…" Van perked, listening to him with a ray of hope shining through the darkness of his frightened confusion. "But living… _hurts_ so damn much." Ed pressed his eyes closed, looking like he was in pain.

Van wasn't sure what to say. He knew he had to say _something_ though. "It doesn't have to," he tried.

Ed sighed. "I know."

"Ed, you can talk to me when you're hurting, okay? I… I may not understand everything, but I'll try. I promise," Van said awkwardly. He didn't know how to deal with emotional stuff – he only wanted to help Ed. To fix the shattered pieces, like the glass he transmuted for the first time.

The alchemist opened his eyes and attempted to smile at him, but it looked more a grimace than a smile. "I'm really sorry, Van. I don't think it would help."

"Is it because you miss your brother?" he asked quietly. "Because he meant so much to you?"

Ed's expression twisted with pure, uncensored grief. He covered his eyes with his left hand.

"It's not that I just miss him, Van. It's my fault he's dead. _It's all because of me._ "

Van forgot to breathe for a moment. Suddenly, all pieces of the puzzle came together, everything became clear. The deep, dark, unidentifiable emotion that was always lurking behind Ed's eyes, the expression of sadness that never quite left him, his painful nostalgia, the broken fondness that could be heard every time Alphonse's name fell from his tongue. Suddenly, it all had a name.

Guilt.

Ed had been living in guilt all this time, drowning in it, never free of it, even in his most carefree moments. All his smiles, the mask he had put on his face, their only purpose was to hide it from him. From the stories Ed told, Van knew how much he cared about his brother. They used to be inseparable. If Ed was to blame for his only brother's death…

It made so much more sense now. Van had a vague idea now why Ed would welcome death, something he couldn't comprehend at all just a moment earlier. This wasn't something Van could understand, never having killed anyone in his life. Especially an innocent person.

But, he refused to believe that Ed would intentionally hurt his own brother in any way. Ed told him himself – Alphonse had been kind and caring and smart… and Ed loved him fiercely. This had to be a mistake, or an accident… or something.

"No." The calm, confident tone of his voice perhaps surprised Van himself more than Edward. "I don't believe it. It couldn't be your fault."

Ed peeked through his fingers. "Van…"

"You think after months learning from you I haven't learn anything about _you_? You're not that kind of person. You couldn't have hurt your brother. Not on purpose."

Ed lowered shook his head slowly. "On purpose or not, it's still my fault. I was supposed to protect him, but I failed him. I'm… I'm a sinner, Van."

"Sinner?" Van actually laughed at the claim. "Ed, I don't know if you're aware, but I just came back from the market hearing the old lady sing praises about you. You fixed somebody's house. You helped a man who lost his job. You bought flowers from a woman who had trouble selling them. You helped catch a mugger who's been terrorizing the streets."

As he spoke, the alchemist slowly lifted his head, a blank expression on his face.

"You bought a slave and set him free," Van added, smiling at him softly. "You gave him a home and made him realize what it means to be free."

"Which I did for selfish reasons," Ed quietly murmured to himself, but he still caught it.

"Selfish? Ed, you're not selfish. You're amazing. You're a hero."

"Hero?" Edward snorted almost angrily. "Yeah, right. I am not a hero. I'm just a human. A pathetic, insignificant human. I can't even save people who matter most to me. Who I'm supposed to be able to save."

"One is all, all is one," Van stated calmly, causing Ed to blink in surprise. "Isn't that 'the most important lesson you ever gave me', my teacher? All human beings have flaws, sins. Everybody has them buried in their hearts, but they're necessary. They make us human and learning how to live with them is how we win against them."

Ed was completely taken aback by having his own words thrown into his face like that. Taking advantage of his surprise, Van stepped closed and enveloped him in a powerful hug.

"I can tell that to you ten times a day," he whispered into his ear "Every day, to the rest of your life, until you believe me because it's true. You're not a bad person, Ed. You're the greatest person I ever got to know and you're my best friend."

It seemed his reassurance was working because soon Ed returned gesture, shivering a bit.

"Just promise me…" Van couldn't stop himself from speaking, "Please, promise me you won't be thinking about death anymore. I may not know your brother, but I'm pretty sure if he were here right now, he would tell you to live and be happy. You can try for him, can't you?"

Finally, Ed gave in. With a sob, he buried his face in Van's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him forcefully.

"I know, I know…" he cried. "A-and I'm t-trying, I r-really am. It's just s-s-so hard sometimes…!"

"You're doing just fine," Van comforted him softly, ignoring the mysterious stiffness of Ed's right arm. "Just no more jumping into rivers, okay? Or you'll be the death of me."

Ed laughed through the tears. "S-sure thing. I feel l-like our roles are re- reversed, y-you know. I'm supposed to- to lecture you about s-stupid th-things. Idiot."

Van rolled his eyes. "My thoughts exactly, pipsqueak."

"S-stop calling me that." Despite the anger in his voice, Ed didn't pull back.

"Stop calling me idiot."

"No p-promises."

* * *

Three days later, in the middle of the night…

"Van. Van! Wake up!"

Slowly, Van resurfaced from the depths of his peaceful slumber. The teen rubbed his eyes sleepily and sat up. "Huh? Ed?"

"Van, I don't have much time, I need you to listen to me carefully."

The urgent tone of his voice woke him up instantly. "What is it? What's going on?"

Ed was dressed in clothes Van hadn't seen before. They were entirely black, tightly covering his hands and feet, slim against his body unlike robes. On his head, there was something that looked like a bag that revealed nothing except his eyes. Van blinked at the get-up with confusion. If it wasn't for the voice he would have no idea this was Ed.

"I didn't think it'd be so soon," Ed spoke in a hurry. "I thought I would have time to explain things to you before it happened, but there isn't any time left. I need to leave now but I hope- no, I _will_ come back, alright? But, just in case I don't-"

"Wait, what?!" Van leaned forward, becoming scared now. "Ed, where are you going?"

"I'm going to the palace. Now-"

"The _royal_ palace? Why are they calling you to the palace in the middle of the night?"

"They're not."

"They're-" Only now he understood the meaning of Ed's clothes. "No way. Are you-?"

"Breaking in – yes. Is it safe – no, of course it isn't. Is it necessary – what do you think, I'm not doing this for fun. Although I admit sneaking past the guards can be quite entertaining sometimes, but that's hardly the point-"

"Why the hell are you going to break into the palace _in the middle of the night_?!"

"It's not important, long story and we don't have the time right now. If something happens to me, the money is in my room. You can take all of my research notes if you want – I taught you some Amestrian so I think you'll get it. Just remember it's coded and it's not easy to break my codes. With everything you've learned you're capable of learning more about alchemy on your own."

Van was terrified right now. He couldn't believe this was happening. "Ed, you can't!"

"Sorry, I have to."

"Let me come with you then!"

"Are you crazy? I've been making preparations for months to plan this break-in. You don't even have the floor plans of the palace memorized. Sorry, kid, but that's not an option. You're staying."

Van wanted to protest, but Ed put his hand on his mouth and said sternly:

"Look, it's not a suicide mission, so calm down. I'm only telling you just in case. I didn't want you to wake up and think I abandoned you in case I couldn't come back. If everything goes according to plan – which I hope it does – we're going to have a new roommate by tomorrow."

 _Roommate?_ Van had officially no freaking clue what was going on.

"I doubt you'll like him, but hopefully you'll get along. Now, I really need to go. I'll see you in the morning, got it? Stay safe."

Before Van could utter a word Ed was gone. The teen ran after him.

" _ **Ed!**_ " he yelled on the top of his lungs, not caring if he woke up the whole neighborhood. " _ **EDWARD!**_ "

When he reached the door, Edward had already disappeared in the impenetrable darkness of the starless night.

"Ed…" he whispered, aware that it was too late.

_What for all the gods' mercy are you doing, Ed?_

* * *

Quite predictably, Van didn't go back to sleep that night. He paced nervously around the house, trying to figure out _just what the hell Ed was thinking, breaking into the royal palace, it sounded like he'd been planning this for a while – what in the name of all things holy was going on!_

It'd been obvious Ed didn't hold much respect for authority, but this was pure insanity. The punishment for such crime was death. If Ed was caught… no, he couldn't even think about it.

_Calm down, Van. Ed is a skilled fighter, right? And a powerful alchemist. He took down five men singlehandedly! He can handle a couple of guards if something goes wrong, can't he?_

He sincerely hoped so. To think they had the confrontation about Ed pulling off dangerous stunts only a couple of days ago. And he had thought that jumping into a river was bad…

_Please, please come back safely… you crazy alchemist._

It was just before the dawn when he heard Ed's voice at the door.

"Alright, we're here. Remember what we talked about. One word out of line and I swear I won't hesitate to kill you on the spot."

"Your insatiable thirst for violence, even though it's purely verbal, is truly delightful Edward Elric," came an amused response.

Van froze at the door, frowning. Whose voice is that? It sounded strange. It seemed to be muffled by something and he couldn't tell if it belonged to a male or a female.

"…However," the voice continued "We both know that's an empty threat by this point."

"Alright then. I'll lock you up in a metal chest and throw it into the river instead. That would work just as fine. I know from experience how fast and nicely heavy things sink in there."

Van, too curious to eavesdrop anymore opened the door.

"Ed?" He smiled in relief when he saw the familiar silhouette at the doorstep. "You're back!"

"Yeah, we made it," Ed smiled back. His head was no longer covered, and there was a large bundle of cloth in his hands.

The teen blinked and looked around. "We?"

"You didn't inform him of my arrival?" The strange voice spoke again, but Van couldn't detect its source. There wasn't anyone in front of him except Ed. "Really now, Fullmetal Alchemist, you hurt my feelings."

Ed rolled his eyes and stepped inside. "I did, I just didn't tell him who you were."

"Very well. I suppose an introduction is in order." Van kept looking around, confused as to where the voice was located. It seemed to be coming from Ed, but the alchemist had his mouth closed and it didn't sound anything like him. "Would you mind telling me your name first, young man? I must have asked Edward a hundred times by this point but he never told me."

"And for a good reason." Ed muttered.

"Yes, well… Young man?"

"My name's Van Hohenheim... But who are you? _Where_ are you?"

Ed sighed and removed the cloth in his arms with one hand. Underneath it was… a flask. A round, glass flask with two tubes, both blocked with plunges at the ends, similar to the ones Van had seen in Roshan's laboratory as he used to sweep there. Inside the transparent container was a black… Thing. He didn't know how else to describe it. The 'Thing', it appeared to be floating inside the flask. Van watched without fear, but he had a weird feeling about this 'Thing'.

"Van, meet the Dwarf in the Flask…" Ed said slowly. "The Homunculus."

A big eye with red iris opened and the 'Thing' looked back at him with curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> Cliffhangers. They're the loveliest thing :3
> 
> Good news, everyone: the next chapter of "Harry Potter and the Alchemist Brothers" is coming SOON! And by SOON I mean really soon. The soonest I can. I was writing these two things at the same time and it just so happened I finished this one first, but I'm almost done with Chapter 10. I'm not going to apologize for the delay, I told you my reasons and I really couldn't do anything sooner. Sorry. (Darn, I just said I wasn't going to apologize! Well, whatever…)
> 
> I'm so glad I finally finished Van's point of view. I know you're probably thinking: "What the hell is going on?! Why is the Homunculus there?!" Too bad – that was my intention xD This is the longest chapter so far but honestly, I'm just as surprised as you are. I promised the next chapter would be "A Flashback" so I had to wrap everything up in one go… it turned out much longer than I thought it would. Well, I hope you're happy, with all your lovely reviews I think you'll enjoy a longer chapter :)
> 
> Thank you for all the support, you guys are awesome! Please review, add to your favorites, follow and check my other stories! But most importantly – read on and enjoy.
> 
> And Happy Birthday to Whoever's Birthday It Is Today! :D


	8. A Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's First Day - the story of how Ed got himself into the past. It's not a very happy tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Author speaks Polish... and decided to use some just for the fun of it. Translation's not included, but if you really want to understand (even though Edward doesn't and that's kind of the point, since it's his POV), you can always use Google Translate. Usually I really don't recommend it... it can get stuff reaaaly wrong sometimes - so bad in fact that it can lead to a mental breakdown... But hey, I made sure it works well enough with these lines for you.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ed wasn't naive.

He may have been merely sixteen years old, however he had experienced and suffered more than most people during their entire lifetime. One of the things that the harshness of his life had taught him, was to be extremely careful where he placed his trust. During his years as a State Alchemist, not for a moment had he forgotten that if the truth about their past was exposed, he and Alphonse would have been locked up, used as tests subjects or get a death sentence from the military. Sometimes, it was for the best to keep others in the dark, even if they were friends – that being the reason why he never bothered to write to Winry and Granny. They were better off not knowing all the dangers he constantly faced. Overall, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he was extremely wary about keeping his secrets.

So it only makes sense that even as Edward made a deal with the Homunculus, he didn't trust him one bit. After all… who would trust the _murderer_ of everyone he loved and cared about?

* * *

_Central Headquarters, Amestris, April 1915 – The Promised Day_

* * *

" _Playtime ends here._ "

Just as Ed swung his automail arm to strike Pride, suddenly, something painfully wrapped around him. Fullmetal Alchemist's eyes widened and a surprised yell escaped his mouth as he was pulled back. Pride – also known as Selim Bradley – bared his teeth with glee, the wicked grin only partly covered by one hand to keep his face from slowly falling apart.

Ed's lunges screamed in protest when his entire body was slammed into the ground, _hard_. He growled in primal anger seeing the same thing happen to Al, Teacher, even the Colonel. The Flame Alchemist's face was frozen in a fearful expression, but Edward wouldn't blame him. Not only had Mustang been dragged through the Gate mere moments ago against his own will, he didn't know where he was and couldn't see what was happening to him. Not that knowing these things made Ed feel any better.

"Time for you all to get to work," said Father after his previously shapeless body formed a head and a mouth to speak with. The mouth was stretched in the same cruel grin that Pride's shadows always possessed. " _The time_ has come."

It took Fullmetal a second to notice how Father had positioned the four of them around himself. This monster was going to use them, for whatever he'd been plotting all this time, and it was happening _right not_. Ed frantically attempted to break free, but the hold of Father's clutches was too strong.

"Have you all ever thought of this planet as one life form?" Father suddenly spoke to them, his voice sending chills down Edward's spine. "…Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a system rather than a life form. A system that records a tremendous amount of information from the Universe, which is incomparable to the tiny amount that each of you humans possess. If one were to open that Gate, how much power do you suppose they would gain?" He looked down at them with his huge, monstrous eye. "Ever thought of it?"

Ed couldn't withhold his gasp. So _that_ was the Homunculi's plan.

"Using these human Sacrifices, I'm going to open that Gate," Father proclaimed. "Right here, right now!"

"So _that's_ the center!"

Seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar person appeared. A young man with long hair tied in a ponytail, dressed in black. His arms and hands (or should it be claws) were covered in lustrous-grey skin, contrasting the pale complexion of his Xingnese face.

Selim started in surprise. "Greed!"

"The center of the world belongs to me! The world is mine!" Greed shouted in triumph and slashed Father's head through, tearing him to pieces.

Dark, liquid-like mass splashed and flowed over the concrete, the horrifying eyes and grins disappearing in the revolting goo.

"He… did it…?" Ed whispered in disbelief.

For a moment, it really seemed like Greed had won. Then suddenly, the chilling voice spoke again:

"I knew you'd come, Greed, my son." Another evil grin formed in the dark mass, surrounding Greed along with several scary eyes. "You're the avarice that was born from me after all. It's only natural that you'd want everything I want."

The almost-fluid black substance moved away from surprised Greed, taking all the Human Sacrifices with it. Hohenheim finally emerged from the mass, coughing harshly but paying no mind to his pain. In an instant the Xerxesian used his Philosopher Stone, causing an explosion around Father, but the Homunculus only laughed at such feeble attempt. Any efforts to escape from the remaining Sacrifices were no more effective, Edward included.

"The _true_ center of the world…" Father said as he slammed his hand down on the table, standing next to the chair situated in the middle of the room. There was a strange board on it, with small figures placed on the edge of a transmutation circle. "...is right _here_!"

Red light erupted from the circle, blinding them in its brilliance.

It was too late, Ed realized in horror.

" _Damn you…!_ " Hohenheim cursed viciously.

An eye with grey iris opened over the stomach of each of the Human Sacrifices. Ed screamed in terror at the familiar sensation while creepy black hands came springing out from his Gate. The same happened with all five of them, the alchemists screeching as the hands surrounded the Homunculus, creating a surge of energy. Somewhere in the background, Ed could vaguely hear Greed's and May's screams, along with Father's sickly exhilarated words:

" _Yes!_ Let the Gates fight each other! _Repel one another!_ Oh, Such an immense amount of energy! I'm almost unable to hold it down by myself! And with this this power, I shall open the Gate of the planet!"

* * *

The alchemic reaction traveled around Amestris with light's speed, blood red flash surrounding the country. Demonic hands sprouted from the ground everywhere, capturing the souls of every human being inside the nation-wide transmutation circle, tearing them away from their bodies.

Then, an enormous Gate appeared above the ground and opened slowly, facing the above. Giant fingers wrapped around the edge of it and the Homunculus stood up, a terrifying scream coming from his throat as he reached for the sky.

" **God! Respond to my soul! Come!** "

Another Gate appeared, right between the Earth and the Moon. Slowly, the doorway opened, revealing an eye with multiple rings within the gray iris. The Eye of Truth.

Black hands like vines fell down to the Earth, allowing the Homunculus to grab them.

" **That's right, come!** " The monster's voice thundered as he pulled desperately. " **I shall no longer be chained down by you! I shall drag you down to the earth and make you a part of me!** "

Gradually, the Gate lowered, eventually passing through him. There was an explosion of power that could be seen from miles away, before total darkness and silence came over – now dead – country of Amestris.

* * *

Izumi was the first to get up. She coughed, then checked her stomach, but the Eye of Truth was gone. The others stood up as well, the Colonel swaying as he did, disoriented by his lack of sight.

"What happened…?" he asked hoarsely. "Is everyone alright?"

Before they could answer him, an unfamiliar voice had spoken:

"A job well done… my dear Sacrifices."

Hohenheim gasped in shock, staring at the figure now sitting in Father's chair. He looked like a normal young man, twenty-one or so, but there was an aura of wrongness surrounding him. He had long blonde hair, falling loosely on his bare shoulders and muscular stomach. His face, with sharp chin and piercing golden eyes, was absolutely expressionless.

"You actually did it…!" Hohenheim took a step back, not able to conceal his shock.

The young man (or could such cold creature be called a man at all?) didn't even blink.

"Yes," he said calmly, devoid of any emotion. "I've obtained God."

"' _God_ ', you say?!" Ed snarled in disbelief. "Cut the bull-!"

Hohenheim cut him off: "It's possible."

Ed whipped his head around. "H-huh?!"

"It is, unfortunately," the Western Sage confirmed. "If you're in possession of a tremendous amount of energy, that is."

"Energy…?" Another gasp escaped him when he understood. "The Philosopher Stone!"

"You're joking!" Alphonse said shakily. "You mean, everyone has already been turned into a Philosopher Stone?!"

"Just how many lives were lost…?" May Chang whispered.

Mustang gritted his teeth in anger. "There are roughly fifty million people in this nation." _Or should it be '_ _ **were in this nation**_ _'_ , passed through everybody's minds.

Father's face may have been human now, but with his merciless expression, there was nothing human about it. It was a face of a monster who had no regret over what he had done.

"Why?!" Al yelled at the Homunculus, unable to keep down his rage. Ed was right behind him:

"What do you even _**need**_ this worthless energy _for_?! What's worth sacrificing so many people, you bastard?!"

They didn't really expect an answer, but they still received it.

"I'm going to become a perfect being," Father informed them casually, sounding almost dismissive. "To achieve that, I must start at the Beginning. The _very_ Beginning."

"The beginning...?" Ed repeated, not understanding.

Hohenheim made a chocking noise and his expression became one of pure horror.

"Dad, what is he talking about?" Al asked fearfully, knowing too well he wouldn't like what they were about to hear.

"He wants to go back in time…" Hohenheim's voice was laced with icy dread. "When the world was created, to bend the entire Universe to his will."

"What?!" Ed and Al shouted.

"But that's impossible…!" Mustang insisted, but with not-so-much confidence in his strained voice.

They were interrupted when suddenly something…. pulsated. That was the only way to describe it: a pulse of energy cut through the air, making everything come to a halt.

"What is this…?" For the first time since he got his new body, Father's face changed into an expression of surprise.

Ed turned to Hohenheim and saw that the man was smirking.

"What have you done?!" Father snarled angrily at the Xerxesian.

Hohenheim squared his shoulders, all traces of his previous shock gone. "Counteroffensive. I had positioned my friends, my Philosopher Stones, all across Amestris. They shall rip the souls out of the Stone inside you, and return them to their rightful bodies!"

Hope flared inside Ed's chest. So it wasn't over yet!

However, the Homunculus wouldn't stand passively and let that happen. "You've tried to stand in my way one too many times, Hohenheim!" Father knew he had to act quickly, before Hohenheim's 'counteroffensive' could activate. He looked at Selim. "Pride."

Selim grinned and sent shadows in Hohenheim's direction.

"You have served your purpose, my Sacrifices. Now you are no longer of any use to me."

"Dad!"

"Hohenheim!"

Everybody rushed forward, too focused on the attack to notice a shadow sneaking at them from the opposite direction.

"Alphonse, watch out!" May screamed, a moment too late.

A blood-chilling, metallic noise made them all freeze. Ed's head slowly turned to the side, not fully convinced if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

Al's armor was standing still, one arm stretched out in Hohenheim's direction. A single shadow, formed into a blade, was precisely piercing the middle-collar through the back of the suit, sticking out on the other side. The place where the blood seal was located.

So swiftly that Ed's eyes were unable to follow, the shadow retracted, leaving the armor to collapse like a puppet with cut strings. May screeched loudly.

"What's going on?" Mustang grabbed Izumi's shoulder forcefully. "What happened?!"

"Al's…" Izumi's words got caught in her throat from shock.

Ed didn't move, didn't speak, didn't _think_. He was so stunned his body wouldn't respond to any command. His brain failed to process that this was really happening. The only thing he felt was numb.

The first person to properly react... was Hohenheim. His normally collected features abruptly twisted into an expression of pure rage.

"Nobody," he could barely speak. His body trembled with anger. "NOBODY TOUCHES MY SONS!"

Running forward, he released a powerful alchemy blow directly at Selim. Pride shouted in pain and surprise and tried to retreat, but Hohenheim had none of it. The furious Xerxesian was relentless, and there was no doubt he would quickly destroy the small Homunculus.

Father, however, apparently cared about his 'firstborn' no more than a bug that was about to be squashed. "Nothing will stop me. I shall become the perfect being!" he said once again and turned his back to the rest of them. "Farewell, my Sacrifices!"

A terrifyingly powerful blast of light surrounded them. Ed staggered backwards in his lack of balance, too shell-shocked to even scream. For a second, he believed it really was all over.

Then all of a sudden, someone grabbed his collar, preventing him from falling down in the last moment.

"Get it together, dammit!"

Ed jerked in surprise. "Greed!"

He couldn't see, be he could feel Greed dragging him towards the blinding alchemy reaction.

"Hurry up, Ed!" Greed's voice changed into Ling's for a second, then switched back: "Don't let the old man win, runt!"

"But…!" Ed stuttered.

"JUST GO, DAMMIT!" Greed yelled and gave him a final push.

Making a spit-second decision, Ed squeezed his eyes tightly and using both the force of GreedLing's shove and his own automail leg, he leaped... right where Father was standing – the middle of the reaction.

"No!" Pride's shout reached Ed's ears, but if he was protesting against his own demise, or Greed's interference, he wouldn't know.

Ed crashed into something – he would never know what exactly – and then there was nothing.

Just darkness.

* * *

_What…? What happened? Where...?_

Ed blinked, suddenly aware of his thoughts again. He was standing in a familiar void, surrounded by nothing but whiteness.

The realm of Truth.

"What's going on?"

Edward blinked again. He didn't say that. Who said that? The voice didn't sound familiar at all. It sounded strange, slightly high-pitched and Ed couldn't place if it was male or female.

"My body! What…! What happened to my body?!"

Fullmetal looked around, struggling to find the owner of the distressed voice.

"Am I… Was I _rejected_? But it's impossible! I don't understand! Why?! Why, God! Why did you refuse to join me? How did I disappoint you?"

" **You're incapable of believing in yourself.** "

Every muscle in Ed's body froze. He knew _that_ voice. It spoke in his nightmares more times than he could count. There was no way anybody could forget it once they encountered the terrifying Being it belonged to.

Truth.

"But I did it! I absorbed the power of God!" The first voice sounded angry and confused at the same time. "What do you mean by 'incapable of believing in myself'?"

" **You stole your power from others. You rejected your human origins. And you chose to covet the power you call 'God'. You never grew beyond your days in the flask. Did you truly think you'd become superior to humans by removing your seven desires? Don't make me laugh!** "

"What's wrong with that? I only want to obtain perfection! To gather all of the world's knowledge! To experience it! What's should I be punished for that? What's wrong with craving knowledge? What's wrong with seeking perfection?!"

There was a brief silence. Ed was finally realizing who was the owner of the first voice. He swallowed, his throat feeling so dry like he hadn't had a drink in a century.

"Well, speak! What are you, anyway?" The first voice still sounded angry, but a note of fear was creeping into it. "Do you even have a name? Who the hell do you think you are?!"

" **Who am I…?** "

 _Oh, great, here it goes…_ Ed thought wearily.

" **One name you may have for me is the world. Or you may call me the universe. Or perhaps God. Or perhaps the Truth. I am all and I am one. So of course, it also means that I am you.** "

" **I'm the truth of your despair, the inescapable price of your boastfulness. And now, I will bestow upon you the despair you deserve.** "

An ominous echo resounded, and Ed knew beyond a doubt that a Gate had been opened. For unknown reasons, just hearing it was a much more horrifying experience than standing in front of one. He looked around once more, but he could see nothing beyond the whiteness.

"You can't do this to me… I can't… I can't go back…!"

Ed shivered at the broken whisper of pure despair.

"Please stop! I can't bear to be bound any longer!"

The voice started begging. Could this get any worse?

"No! _No no no no no no!_ "

Ed bit his lip and shut his eyes, trying to force the voice out of his head with all his might, but remained unsuccessful.

" **This despair is reserved for the boastful.** "

"Why?! I just wanted to be free! Free to know! What did I do wrong?"

Ed took a shaky breath and covered his face with his hands. Listening to the wails and screams was far worse than going trough the Gate himself. _Please, make it stop…!_

" **You brought this outcome upon yourself.** "

"Just tell me what I was supposed to do! What should I have done?!"

The last scream hung in the air for a long moment, before it was cut off with another echo.

The Gate closed. Finally. He released the breath he'd been holding in relief.

" **We meet yet again, Mister Alchemist.** "

Ed jumped, startled, looking at the faceless Figure suddenly standing in front of him. He glanced behind his shoulder and was barely surprise to notice that his Gate was there as well.

Slowly, the alchemist turned to the Being.

"What happened to... him?" he asked.

" **Do you really wish to know?** "

"...No, I'd rather not." Ed admitted and shuddered. Then he realized something.

"It's… so strange," he spoke, more to himself than Truth. "I mean... he's evil, right? He deserves any hell you can give him." His memory rushed back, causing a terrible ache in his chest. "He just killed everyone in Amestris. He... he killed Winry. Granny." He closed his eyes to prevent the sudden wetness behind his eyelids to spill. "Al." He still couldn't believe this. Even though he'd seen Alphonse's blood seal being cut through with his own eyes. "He's supposed to be a soulless abomination. He's caused so much pain, all for selfish hunger for power… and yet…"

And yet he couldn't forget everything that had happened. He remembered the story Hohenheim had told him about his friendship with the Dwarf in the Flask. He remembered how Gluttony mourned Lust's death. He remember how Envy committed suicide over being jealous of humans. He remembered how Greed helped him in the last moment.

He remembered the scream of the Homunculus when he was being dragged into the Gate.

_I just wanted to be free! Free to know!_

Ed couldn't lie to himself. Not in front of Truth. A dark, humorless chuckle came from his mouth.

"...I can't help but pity him. Ridiculous, right? I'm such an idiot…" He smiled mirthlessly. "I guess it's because I am just human."

Truth said nothing. There wasn't even a grin of Its face. It was utterly blank.

"So what now?" Ed asked after a beat. Then he became defensive on instinct. "I-I didn't come back here again on purpose! I didn't ask for this!"

 _Mustang didn't ask for this either_ , his mind whispered. Ed gritted his teeth. One instinct screamed at him to get away, to step back, but he knew that by doing that he would get closer to the Gate. _No thank you._

The other instinct prompted him to punch Truth with his automail fits – screw the consequences of assaulting God! This bastard had no right to take the Colonel's sight. That just wasn't right, it wasn't fair. It wasn't Equivalent Exchange at all.

" **Calm down, Mister Alchemist."** Truth spoke before Ed could make any rash decision. **"Your passage fee has been paid. Your existences, all of them, has been assured no matter what your choice shall be.** "

Ed blinked in pure confusion, forgetting his anger for the moment.

"...What do you mean?"

" **The Dwarf in the flask attempted to go back to the Beginning of Time, to replace God with himself, in order to become all-powerful. In his arrogance, he created the abomination known to you as the Philosopher Stone, using every human soul in your country. Because of him, the Amestrian people are gone forever. Now, you must choose.** "

"Choose what?"

" **No one can reach the Beginning," Truth explained patiently. "Only a fool would try to alter the very foundation of the Universe. However, the Dwarf in the Flask gathered enough energy to break through the fabric of time**."

It took Ed a moment to process all of this.

"Time… travel? Are you serious?"

" **I am Truth, Mister Alchemist.** " The all-too-familiar grin appeared on Truth's face. " **You may go back, or you may go forward. What will you do?"**

"Back or forward…?" Ed wasn't sure _what_ to think, but he knew he _didn't_ like this. At all. He had never considered time-travel to be possible before. He never thought of what he would do if he got a crazy choice like that. "Can't I just go back to my present?" he asked hesitantly.

" **If you wish. You remember what awaits you there.** "

Memory washed through him and Ed felt week in his knees. Amestris… fifty million lives… Al… all gone. _Forever_. Unless...

"Is it… Isn't it still possible to return the souls back to their bodies?" Ed asked desperately.

" **The toll has already been paid,** " Truth responded. " **So no, it is not possible.** "

"But you just said the Homunculus broke through the fabric of time!" Ed protested furiously. "If he could do _that_ , surely you can reverse this, can't you?! You're _Truth_ for God's sake!"

There was only silence. Ed began to think hard. He couldn't let Amestris fall. He had to do… _something…_ There's got to be something!

Then, the perfect solution came to his mind. It was so obvious he actually started wondering if it could really be so simple. If there wouldn't be a catch to it.

"You mean, I can go back in time? Just like that? No additional payment, no more toll?"

" **Yes.** "

"And it wouldn't be different from what I remember it? Like, in the past… The people would still be alive, right?"

" **Yes.** "

"Alright then." Ed took a deep breath. He had no idea just how far he needed to go back – he had to word his wish carefully, he couldn't afford a mistake. Not now. Finally, he said: "I want to stop the Homunculus. I need to go back to a place and time when he can be still defeated, before he executes his plan and kills everyone. Got it?"

The grin of Truth's face became unbelievably wide.

" **Very well, Mister Alchemist,** " The Gate slowly opened. " **Keep this in mind: you need to head East to do what you intend. And remember that every action you perform shall have consequences.** "

Silky black hands wrapped around Ed's arms and ankles. He allowed himself to be dragged backwards, but before the Gate could take him, he called out:

"Truth! Just to make things clear. If time-travel is possible, does it really mean the past can be changed?"

" **You shall find out on your own.** "

Ed groaned in frustration. "At least tell me where _exactly_ I'm supposed to go!"

" **Do not waste this chance, Edward Elric, for this is your only one,** " Truth warned for the last time.

 _I really hope I'm not going to regret this…_ was the Fullmetal Alchemist's last thought before the Gate closed.

* * *

Ed awoke catching a startled breath, feeling as if he just resurfaced from a deep lake. It took him a while to remember everything that happened previously.

 _That's right… the Gate… time-travel… I still can't believe time-travel exists. Where am I? Or the better and more predictable question is:_ _**when**_ _am I?_

With a tired groan, he sat up and opened his eyes.

Green. That was the first thing he saw. After a second of staring at the blurred object in front of him, he realized there was a bunch of leaves inches away from his face. Quick look around told him he was being surrounded by scratchy branches.

 _I'm... in a bush. Geez, thanks, Truth. Of all possible places, you dump me inside a_ _**bus**_ _. Well, at least it's not a rose bush…_

The alchemist clapped quickly and transmuted his automail into a blade. With a few good slashes, he created a path and crawled out.

 _Okay, let's see… It looks like I'm in a forest, somewhere._ Ed sighed. _Wonderful. I better find out which way is East. That's the only clue that bastard bothered to give me._

Finding the right direction was simple enough. At least all the survival training from Teacher was finally paying off. As Edward strutted East, he question **when** he currently was continued to plague his mind. Could this really be the past? But everything looked so... normal. It might have been unreasonable, but he would have expected being in the past to somehow feel different; his vision appearing more grayish or brownish, like those old photographs from nineteenth century. Then again, he didn't know how far in the past he had been sent. It could be days. It could be months. A couple of years, maybe. How much time in advance he'd need to warn the others about Father's ultimate goal? Convincing others about him being from the future shouldn't be too hard, if he managed to find his past self, Ed reasoned. It'd be super weird, meeting himself, but after the initial shock being over, everything else should go smoothly. Hopefully. As long as they don't accuse him being Envy trying to trick them… But Ed didn't doubt he would find a way to prove his identity, once they give him a chance.

Would the others had already met Envy, anyway? What year was this? Had he and Al discovered the truth about the Philosopher Stone yet? Had Ed joined the military already? Was Mustang Colonel or Lieutenant Colonel, or maybe even Major? Had the Ishvalan happened yet or not?

Those questions spurred another, more of personal nature than worry over the fate of Amestris. Were Winry's parents still alive? Was is possible to save them, if they were? And not just them – there were so many tragedies that could have been prevented, Ed didn't know where to start. Could he save Nina from being turned into a Chimera? Could he change the horrible events that had lead Scar to becoming a murderer? Could he stop Mustang and Hawkeye from becoming involved in the war and killing all those innocent Ishvalans? And what about his past self and Al? How old where they now? Have they committed the taboo yet? What if…

_...What if mom is still alive?_

Ed stopped abruptly, blood draining away from his face.

Never, ever since Human Transmutation, had he allowed himself to hope like this. After their failure, Ed accepted the fact that dead people remain dead. He wouldn't say that he came to terms with her death completely, but he accepted it nevertheless. And when he dug up that _thing_ he and Al made, it became clear that bringing people back to life was just impossible. Once gone, a person couldn't come back. They just couldn't.

Except, if this was truly the past… then she really _could_ be alive. Ed's heart started beating faster at the thought. What if… what if she could have been saved? If she wasn't sick yet? Could he really change the fate of his whole family?

_...Remember that every action you perform shall have consequences._

Ed gulped. Of course... Consequences. No matter how tempting this idea was, he couldn't make such decision before thinking everything through.

_If mom didn't die, we wouldn't have performed that transmutation. If Al didn't lose his body, I wouldn't have became a State Alchemist. If I didn't become a State Alchemist…_

...Well, that would change history _a lot_.

 _Slow down, Edward Elric,_ he ordered himself and forced his body to move forward. _You don't even know if she's alive, no point in mulling this over yet. You need to focus on finding out_ _ **when**_ _and_ _ **where**_ _you are, then worry about what you're going to do._

It was easier to just let it go for now. He didn't want to – couldn't – think about this now. He decided to focus on his surroundings instead.

The had terrain changed, and Ed noticed he was going uphill. It was a warm day. He couldn't see the sun very well, obscured by a thick layer of branches, but if he was to judge the time by the lighting, it was about noon. The air had a note of freshness that told him it was still spring. The ground was a bit wet, so it must have been raining earlier today or yesterday.

Finally, the trees began to clear. After almost an hour of walking around, he was on the top of the hill, the glade allowing him to look around.

There was something… familiar about the landscape, although he couldn't put a finger on it. There was nothing but trees as far as he could see. Something in the back of his head whispered that something was missing – something big. However no matter how hard he tried, Ed just couldn't remember.

Eventually something caught his eye, a couple of miles in distance: a glimpse of a twisted brown serpent.

"A route," Ed whispered. Thank goodness, a sign of civilization. He wasn't completely lost then. He'd been beginning to fear Truth had dumped him in some random wilderness on the other side of the planet. Not only a route meant an easy way to a city, it was a West-to-East road too.

Perfect.

He traveled down the hill, trying to find the easiest course as he maneuvered through the woods. He'll probably need to stop soon and find something to eat, he thought. Or drink. He was an alchemist though, it wouldn't be a problem to transmute water from some plants. Food was a bigger problem. He could make traps, but that method required patience and waiting and Ed had to move forward. He didn't know how much time he'd been given to change the outcome of the Promised Day, but knowing that bastard Truth it probably wasn't much.

Ed set his jaw in determination and started running.

He reached the route faster than he'd expected. It was a bit of a disappointment though. It must have been only visible from that far-away hill because the rain made the dirt appear darker, easier to spot in an ocean of green. It could barely be considered a route, really. It was more of a forest lane, two parallel imprints suggesting it was used by animal-driven wagons and not pedestrians.

If he was lucky, maybe he could hitchhike.

As if in respond to his thoughts, the sound of hooves hitting dirt reached his ears from the distance. Ed swiftly turned, squinting.

In a matter of minutes, a wagon appeared, pulled by two chestnut horses. It was a small wagon, not much taller than Ed himself (which meant nothing, because **he was not short!** ), occupied by two people; a wrinkled old man with barely any hair left, and just-as-old woman whose hair was covered by a shawl.

"Hey!" Ed called out and waved. "You there!"

The wagon stopped, and the couple stared at him with surprise and suspicion.

"Would you guys mind giving me a lift?" Ed asked as politely as he could. He grinned sheepishly. "I'm kind of lost."

The man blinked at him and turned to the woman next to him (probably his wife):

" _Co ten dzieciak tam mamrocze? Pierwszy raz w życiu_ _słyszę taki bełkot._ "

Ed's eyes widened. What language was _that_?

The woman shrugged. " _Nie mam zielonego pojęcia. Aczkolwiek, trudno się dziwić że go nie rozumiesz. Do ciebie nigdy nie dociera co się do ciebie mówi._ "

The man looked at her indignantly. " _Że co?!_ "

" _No właśnie."_ She rolled her eyes. " _Widzisz?_ "

The old man leaned towards the woman's face and snarled. " _Słowo daję, kobieto, pewnego dnia uduszę cię własnymi rękoma._ "

" _A spróbuj!_ " She responded just as angrily. " _I wtedy będziesz sam sobie gotował! I pranie robił! I palenisko rozpalał! I swoje zwiotczałe mięśnie masował!_ "

"Z _wiotczałe mięśnie?!_ "

" _A jakże!_ "

Ed looked between them helplessly as they continued to yell at each other, totally ignoring him. Eventually, he coughed, trying to get back their attention. "Uh… Excuse me?"

They turned to him simultaneously, like they just remembered his existence.

" _Czego chesz, bachorze?_ " the man said rudely, eyeing Edward distrustfully.

Ed wasn't an idiot. While a language was a serious problem in proper communication, it didn't make it impossible. He refused to give up on a free ride just because he couldn't understand a word those people were saying.

"I." He pointed at himself firmly. "Need. A ride." He pointed at the wagon, then the road ahead and back at himself. Then, swallowing his pride, he bowed his head and asked humbly: "Please?"

The couple exchanged uncertain looks.

" _Jak myślisz, o co mu chodzi?"_ The man sounded like he didn't know what to think.

" _Wydaje mi się..._ " The woman spoke slowly. " _...że ten chłopiec prosi żebyśmy go podwieźli._ "

The man blinked, then suddenly grinned. " _Nic za darmo, mały._ " He reached out an open hand to Ed, greed visible in his expression. " _Jak chcesz jechać, to_ _do ręki płać._ "

Ed scowled. Typical. So much for human kindness. He started to search through his pockets, then stopped when he realized something.

He only had Amestrian money. Those people didn't sound Amestrian. Not only that, some of the bills could have the date of nineteen-fifteen printed on them. What if that wasn't the current year? He doubted the old man would overlook such a thing, he appeared to be the type who paid more attention to money than anything else.

He sighed. There wasn't much of a choice – besides, with the fate of Amestris at stake, State Alchemist protocol was the last thing on his mind. There was no time to loose, so he just had to get on with it.

Ed picked a random pebble from the ground and turned around. He heard the old man say something to him, but he didn't care. With a quick clap, he transmuted the pebble into a big, gold coin.

 _In every country, gold should be worth something_ , he hoped.

When the flash of the transmutation faded, he turned back to the man and put the coin into his open hand.

"There," he crossed his arms. "Is this good enough?"

The couple stared at him with dropped jaws. For a long moment, neither of them even twitched.

Ed swallowed nervously. Perhaps, in retrospective, he shouldn't have done that. Not everyone knew that alchemist could transmute gold. Maybe those people had never heard about it. What if they didn't know how to keep quiet? He couldn't exactly ask them to – not with the language barrier present.

This wasn't good.

 _One thing's certain. As an amateur time-traveler, I_ _**suck**_ _at keeping low profile._

Ed tensed, waiting for something to happen.

" _O. Moi. Bogowie._ " The woman's voice was hoarse from shock.

The coin fell from the old man's shaking hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> "You've tried to stand in my way one too many times, [insert Hero's name]!"
> 
> I know, I know, it's such a cliché line… but I couldn't help myself xD
> 
> So, I hope the Flashback didn't disappoint. I know there isn't much focus on Al's death – yet.
> 
> As you can clearly see, I've been trying to stick to the canon as closely as possible… if you're reading my "Harry Potter and the Alchemist Brothers" story, you must know how obsessed I am with logic and things making sense. I knew I had to make a believable backstory for the time-travel thing, and I had it prepared ever since chapter 2.
> 
> However I must confess, the idea of Father's alternative plan isn't entirely original. I was inspired by episode "The Once and Future Thing" from "Justice League Unlimited". I'm not really a huge superhero fan, but I liked that particular episode. In short, a time-traveling villain named Chronos (reference to Greek mythology) steals something from the superhero team and Batman, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman begin to chase him through different eras. In the end, Chronos attempts to escape them by reaching for the beginning of time.
> 
> Green Lantern: "The Green Lanterns have a legend – no one can see the beginning of time. It's a universal law!"
> 
> Batman: (sarcastic) "Write him a ticket!"
> 
> I thought it was a very intriguing idea, I couldn't forget it ever since. That sounds totally like something Father would do, I thought.
> 
> To clarify here: Father's plan was solid, but he miscalculated. He assumed that after obtaining 'the power of God' and possessing 50 million souls would be enough as payment for going back in time. In a way he was right, but replacing God with himself is just impossible – as knowledgable as he was, Dwarf in the Flask wasn't all-powerful. If such conceited action doesn't guarantee a fast trip to Hell, I don't know what does.
> 
> Also – the only reason why Hohenheim's Counteroffensive didn't work is because there was no time for it to fully activate. Father used up his entire Philosopher Stone before it could be ripped away from him.
> 
> By the way, in spite of what you may think, novelizing the big part of this episode was not simple. I mixed the English dub with Japanese subtitles and altered some of the dialogue, but I tried to be as faithful to the source material as possible. It was exhausting, a part of reason why it took me so long. Please don't say I took the easy way out with that, because it's not true.
> 
> Has anyone recognized the language I used to replace Xerxesian dialogue? If not, write your guesses. I wanted to use Persian at first, but it was a bit challenging, so I used something different, a language not many people know about. How many languages I speak, you ask? (smirks) Not. Telling! ;P
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, thank you for reading! Please review, follow and favorite, but most importantly: read on and enjoy! ;)


	9. A Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward realizes when exactly he ended up, and he's not happy. Then he finally arrives in Xerxes.

Her hands were clean.

Still, Slave number Seven couldn't stop looking at them. Her fingers felt itchy and soiled, as if there were still traces of thick substance on them, seeping beneath the skin like poison.

But they were _clean_ , even under her fingernails. She had made sure.

Aside from herself there were only two other men standing in the half-dark room, the only source of light being one small candle on the table. The older man was piercing the younger with a cold stare. Seven's presence was ignored, as always.

"So," Roshan said in a low, serious tone. "Are you sure you have what it takes?"

"Yes, Master Roshan," the young man confirmed, his jaw set in determination.

For the whole fifty one years of her life, slave number Seven had been mute. People in Xerxes believed that speech was the gift of the gods, the ultimate proof of humankind's intelligence. Thus, people mute from birth were sick of mind and incapable of wisdom.

However deep down, Seven knew she was clever. Probably even more so than some of the free men.

"Are you _absolutely_ certain, boy? This is no small project we're talking about," Roshan warned. "You'll be working directly for the king himself. You will be sworn to secrecy under the pain of death from now on."

"I understand, Master. I won't let you down," the man of unknown name promised.

The only reason for her presence during such a secret meeting was because of her birth defect, one of the few rare disabilities which were sought out for among slaves. In theory she was the perfect servant for those who wished to keep secrets; she could not speak about any of them. Nor could she write them, or read them, as she'd never been taught how.

But unknown to her newest Master, she could speak, she always could. However no one here, in her new household, knew how to understand her language… the language of hands.

Her hands, hands so clean they'd been scrubbed raw. But she could already feel them become sticky with blood, even though the youth in front of her was still very much alive.

"And you're fully aware of the risks? Several of my previous assistants left once they learned the details," asked Roshan with an innocently mild tone.

A lie... a horrifying lie hidden by omission. No assistant of Roshan had ever actually _resigned_. None of them got the chance to, Seven knew that better than anyone.

After all… the only slave responsible for cleaning the basement laboratory was _her_.

"What kind of world-changing achievement doesn't involve risk?" came the bold response.

The young man might have been talented in science, she could tell. But he was a **fool**. Naive and so easily manipulated. He had no idea what was in store for him. But it's not like Seven could warn him. He would not understand her.

He would never listen, anyway. She was just a _slave_ after all.

Roshan slowly smirked. "That's the spirit. Very well then, we're starting tomorrow at sunset. Don't be late."

The young man nodded. The older alchemist put a hand on his shoulder. "Soon, we shall change our country's history. This project will bring Xerxes fame and prosperity other countries can only dream of."

And the worst thing about this? Seven didn't think that part was supposed to be a falsehood. She was sure Roshan fully believed in what he was saying. The young man had no reason to suspect that his life wasn't merely at risk, but he was already a planned, deliberate casualty.

Seven showed no reaction though. She learned to act dumb long ago.

The assistant grinned with confidence. "Don't underestimate your genius, Master. Your project will begin a whole new era, not just of our country, but of science as we know it!" he spoke with transparent flattery.

She wasn't so sure about that. Everything about the experiment felt downright unholy. Seven kept it a secret, but she was a religious woman. She'd converted to the faith of Ishval decades ago, and she kept her name - her true name, given to her by Ishvala - close to her heart. She felt His judgement every time that damned array opened its Demon Eye and swallowed another human being, only to spit out their chopped remains.

She only prayed that He may spare her soul for being a part of it, no matter how unwillingly... for her hands being constantly stained will blood, no matter how carefully she cleaned them.

"You are correct about that. Now, go home and get some rest. There will be a lot of work tomorrow."

The young man left, leaving slave number Seven and Roshan alone in the faint glow of the candle. The bald alchemist sat at the desk and looked over his notes again, acting as if she wasn't there. In fact, he probably forgot she was - it happened before.

"It better work this time, his Majesty is getting impatient," he muttered to himself, shuffling through the pages. She hoped for the opposite.

Using a peacock-feathered pen Roshan labeled a new section in his journal. Another chapter for another attempt, she thought with a shiver. A wide, greedy grin split his face in the shadows.

"Soon, I'll be the richest man in this country… right after I present the secret of immortality to the king."

Seven's hands twitched, slightly. They were clean.

...For _now._

* * *

Ed was well-used to people blowing things out of proportion around him, or being dramatic. But this, this was a whole other level of craziness.

It was nothing new to have someone point fingers at him - obviously it came with the territory of being the youngest State Alchemist in history of Amestris. Due to his mixed reputation as a of the military and the Hero of the People, strangers tended to stare at him with either shocked wonder or intense hatred. Some were even apprehensive, afraid of his rank and abilities. Edward honestly couldn't blame them; at times, he was wary of his own power as well - but he could always count on Al to be his conscience in case he went too far.

Taking all of that into account, the young alchemist was still completely unprepared for the reaction he got out of these two random travelers after performing one transmutation.

" _O moi bogowie!_ " The woman screamed, grabbing her chest.

" _Demon! To koniec!_ _ **Umrzemy!**_ " The old man fell in an awkward bow, staring at Edward in horror. The woman followed his lead, bowing in fear.

" _Demon złota przybył żeby nas skazać na wieczne potępienie!_ " She lamented, breathing heavily.

The old man suddenly grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pushed her forward in Ed's direction. " _O Wielki Demonie! Weź moją żonę w ofierze jeśli chcesz, tylko błagam cię oszczędź mnie!_ " he babbled, looking like he was about to soil himself.

The woman sent him a venomous glare. " _ **Że co?!**_ _Ty struchlały_ _tchórzu!_ " She turned to Edward and said, pointing at the man: " _Demonie, weź mojego męża - gwarantuję że ci bardziej będzie smakował!_ "

Now, while Ed didn't understand a lick of what they were saying (although, the more they spoke the more eerily familiar the language sounded...) he wasn't an idiot and he could read their body language loud and clear. The couple kept bowing in complete terror and arguing between themselves, as if negotiating which one of them was going to serve as a bloody sacrifice. Apparently, from his incredible display of nuclear alchemy they somehow concluded that he was some sort of god - or rather a "demon", which was one of the few words that made any sense to Ed.

Oh boy.

"Hey, hold on a second-!" he started protesting.

The woman pointed at her spouse's round stomach. " _Widzisz, tłusty i zepsuty do szpiku kości, w sam raz na przekąskę!_ "

The man grabbed her arm, showing her biceps. " _Patrz, jadowita jak żmija i całkiem przy kości! Najesz się na pewno!_ "

Were they… were they seriously arguing which one of them Ed would rather **eat**? What was wrong with these people?!

" _Jadowita żmija?! Ja ci pokażę jadowita, przy następnym posiłku!_ "

" _Jeśli jestem otyły, to to twoja wina! I twojego gotowania!_ "

" _Jak śmiesz obrażać moją kuchnię!_ "

"Would you two just **SHUT UP?!** " Edward finally screamed, silencing them.

The two froze, as if they momentarily forgot he was there. Honestly!

"You," Ed growled, picking the gold coin from the ground where it fell and put it in the woman's hand. "Take the money. And you," he lead the stiff man towards his horses. " **Drive.** Got it?"

After way too long and way too much charades, they finally started moving. Ed sat in the wagon, arms crossed and so done with everything, ignoring the fearful stares of the old people.

It was an hour or so of silence before the old man whispered:

" _...Ale on coś taki mały jak na Demona, nie?_ "

" _Ty lepiej się się zamknij i prowadź, zanim znowu go rozgniewasz!_ " the woman whispered back furiously.

Ed twitched. His 'someone insinuating things about his height' senses were tingling.

* * *

_A blood-chilling, metallic noise rang through the air, Alphonse's armor standing perfectly still, a single arm helplessly reaching out, a blade-shaped shadow piercing through the suit, sticking out on the other side._

_The shadow slowly retracted, the armor collapsing in slow motion, the hollow ring vibrating like thunder when it finally hit the ground._

_The helmet rolled away like a fallen coin on the ground and it fell into a pond of blood. Chilling screams rang in the air, they were everywhere, May's screech of fear mixing with Teacher's shouts of pain, Mustang's blind eyes wide in agony as Hohenheim was swallowed by the black abomination full of red eyes..._

Ed woke up covered in cold sweat.

He'd lost consciousness for half an hour at most - he could tell, that was barely a nap - but the images sprung up under his eyelids like they had been just waiting for the moment to pounce. He could still feel them, battling to resurface in his mind.

_Deep breaths. In, and out. Calm down, don't think. It doesn't matter, you're going to fix it, right? It doesn't matter, there's a chance to stop it. Alphonse is not..._

He immediately slammed the door to that thought before he could finish it. He had no time to think about it! He had things to do.

"How long before we get **somewhere**?!" he asked loudly.

" _Co tam gadasz, ty krasnalu?!_ "

Ed groaned. This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

When Edward thought that this was going to a long trip, he thought it might take several hours. Or a day. Or something.

...Definitely not _multiple days_ with _no_ sign of civilization!

He couldn't believe this. It's been _three days_ since he got onto this ride of madness, and they had not passed a single asphalt road, not a single vehicle, not a single _town_. It'd been nothing but trees, trees and - big surprise - _more_ trees! A never-ending forest with horses moving in a snail pace, and several times already Ed considered if getting off and just going on foot wouldn't have been faster.

Unfortunately, considering the wagon moved continuously for approximately eight hours a day in the exact direction he was supposed to go (ignoring the multiple curves on the roads, but then again, hills could not be helped), not to mention he had barely slept the past couple of days, constantly woken up by nightmares and the resulting exhaustion made it unlikely he'd get anywhere by himself... so staying with the crazy couple and their slow-as-hell wagon was currently the lesser of two evils.

But only just _barely_.

" _Znowu owsiankę przypaliłaś, kobieto! Czy ty niczego nie potrafisz dobrze ugotować?!_ "

" _Mazgaj, sam sobie gotuj jeśli ci nie pasuje!_ "

 _There they go again_ , Ed sighed, regretting all his life choices.

He knew the saying about bickering and old married couples, but this was over the top. These two argued _non stop_ , over absolutely everything. He couldn't understand their arguments, but from their voices alone he knew they were nothing but constant complains and insults. How these two were still together was beyond him.

But there was something else bothering him. The language they spoke, it really sounded familiar to him. And not in the 'oh I might have heard it once somewhere?' way. It felt like something he should be intimately familiar with, like an itch on the top of his brain, something he couldn't quite scratch...

" _...Ile jeszcze dni zanim dojedziemy do Kserkses?_ "

Ed suddenly froze. He didn't just hear that, did he?

" _A tak ze cztery dni, może trzy. Zależy czy drogi nie będą zalane..._ "

"Wait wait wait!" he spoke, stopping their discussion about whatever. "Did you say **'Kserkses'**? Like, Xerxes?"

The man blinked at him in confusion. Over the last three days the couple had gotten visibly used to Ed, no longer believing him to be a Demon about to devour them. Which was _some_ progress, Ed supposed. " _Kserkses? Pewnie, a gdzie myślałeś że jedziemy?_ " He shrugged, chin pointing at the road.

The realization slammed into Ed like an avalanche.

The language those people used. They were speaking _freaking Xerxesian!_

And he'd wondered why it seemed so familiar! They literally spoke the _**mother-tongue of alchemy!**_

The thing was, before seeing the ruins of Xerxes by himself, Ed had no idea that the symbols and characters used in alchemical arrays were in fact in Xerxesian. Amestrians simply called it 'alchemical symbols', as trite as it was, and Ed hadn't put much thought into their origins as much as their meanings and usage in transmutations. Sure, he and Al studied some theories about alchemical origins, but it was all either vague legends about the Eastern Sage and the Philosopher's Stone, or pure speculations pulled out of thin air.

And while it was obvious now that Ed probably had basic understanding of the _written_ Xerxesian grammar through his alchemical studies, he's never actually heard it _spoken_ before, much less in sentences that did not contain any mathematics or chemistry related terms.

But seriously! He couldn't believe it took him hearing the word _Xerxes_ to figure this out! He felt like a total moron!

Good thing Mustang wasn't here to witness this. He'd never let Ed live it down...

_...the image of Mustang's sightless eyes wide in-_

_**NOPE!**_ _Not thinking about it!_ Ed gritted his teeth stubbornly.

From that point on he kept a _much_ closer ear on the others' conversations, now that he knew what language they were using. And of course, it had nothing to do with keeping his mind off of… things. Nothing at all.

So, he figured they were talking about the… journey. Okay. Something about water and roads? Oh, the roads could be full of mud because of the weather. Past weather? It rained last week, apparently. Huh.

He pulled out his journal and started taking notes of the words he decoded through listening so far. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

The fourth day passed much faster, now that Ed had something to focus on. He still didn't know the date, or his current location, and it bothered him to no end, but he was making progress with the language barrier. Something was going right, at least.

In the middle of another restless night, it suddenly occurred to him how unusual it was that he happened to come across two people speaking in an allegedly _dead_ language. How did they even learn it? They spoke to each other like it was the most natural thing in the world, even though Ed was pretty sure there was no nation that actually used it anymore. And they definitely did not seem the scholar type, so… was it their first language? But how? Did they learn it from their parents? Where did their parents learn it? Was it possible they were descended from Xerxes? Some refugees that survived the destruction of the Homunculus? Was it possible for a language to survive like this, after so many centuries?

This confusing mess of a situation continued giving Ed a serious headache. But at least it was a good distraction.

* * *

By the fifth day their three-member group had established a daily routine. In the morning they each ate their share of tasteless burnt oatmeal which the old woman prepared once again, Edward being the only one who did it without complaint (not like he'd be understood if he did). Immediately afterwards they continued onward, stopping for a break before noon, when it got the hottest. Ed used the opportunity to wash himself and his clothes (he was a country boy, true, but it didn't mean he liked to _stink_ \- nevermind that the couple smelled like they haven't washed in years, he had no intention to follow their example) with a self-made bucket of water and a bar of soap.

Making the soap itself had been a challenge, since he needed some sort of triglyceride to make it. Due to the current season, there were no nuts to be found in the woods, so he had to hunt a rabbit for the fat. The couple was delighted that they had fresh meat for once and they ate all of it the moment Ed turned his back to them ( _ungrateful bastards..._ ). He almost regretted they were no longer terrified of him.

Despite his - now nearly constant - state of exhaustion, he felt antsy. He wanted to _do_ something, he wanted to make a plan but he had no idea where to start. How do you begin to stop a nation-wide conspiracy that is about to destroy your whole country, when you're completely on your own?

Morose and lost deeply in thought, he didn't even notice the bandits until the three of them were surrounded.

" _Ręce do góry, staruszku,_ " said the apparent leader mockingly, holding a sword to the old man's neck.

 _Hands up_ , Ed's mind translated, making a note to himself. He narrowed his eyes.

There were four- no, five. Five bandits in total, all out in the open, none of them with guns or any projectile weapons. There was one sword, two knives, an ax and a spear… All were short-range fighters with the exception of the one guy with a spear, and it didn't even have a metal head! Two of the bandits were of average built and the other two were scrawny - only the leader was tall, muscular and held his sword with confidence. The other four held their weapons clumsily, their bravado based on numbers rather than skill. Unlike Greed's chimera friends, they did not look like a tight bunch. They were obviously used to weak prey who couldn't put up a fight.

This was going to be child's play.

" _Zaraz, my nic nie mamy! Sprzedaliśmy cały towar i wracamy do Kserkses!_ " he old man babbled in fear, his hands raised.

 _Sold all the goods,_ Ed caught. _Something about Xerxes. In other words, they don't have anything left to steal, supposedly._

But that was a lie, obviously. Because…

" _Nie łgaj mi, gnojku ty. Masz forsę ze sprzedaży, nie prawdaż?_ "

...they had earned money from the sale, definitely.

" _Przepuściliśmy was w drugą stronę żebyście sprzedali wasze bezużyteczne rupiecie, a teraz forsa jest nasza._ "

 _They have let them go the other way?_ Ed frowned, listening. S _o that they could sell their… useless junk and… have money for them... to steal from?_

Oh, those lousy **bastards**. Ed was going to punch them so hard.

Meanwhile, the couple... started to argue again, naturally.

" _Daj im szybko pieniądze i będzie z po sprawie!_ "

" _Żartujesz, kobieto?! To nasz cały dobytek_!"

" _Zabiją nas, baranie!_ "

" _I tak nas zabiją! A bez tych pieniędzy nie będziemy mieć z czego żyć!_ "

" _Nie potrzeba nam z czego żyć jeżeli nas teraz zadźgają na śmierć, ty prostaku!_ "

" _Prostaku?!_ "

...Of course. Why was Ed not surprised. He decided then to just get this over with.

"Hey, you! You with the idiot face!" he yelled.

The idiot leader looked at him. Much to his surprise, he replied in Amestrian, if in a bit of a strange, old-fashioned accent: "What was that, you **brat**?"

The man with the ax stepped closer to Ed. Ed ignored him.

"Why don't you pick a fight with someone your own size!"

The leader quirked an eyebrow with amusement. "Oh, really? That coming from you, you midge-"

Before he could finish a metal fist slammed into his jaw, knocking a tooth out.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MIDGET YOU STINKING BASTARD!"

The other four bandits froze, mouths gaping. Ed wasted no time. He immediately swept his automail foot under the closes guy, knocking him down and throwing his ax away. The man with the spear reacted first, trying to throw it, but Edward grabbed and pulled it, taking it from his hands and whacking him on the head. The man fell with a shout of pain.

One of the knife guys screamed and started to run away, but Ed quickly caught up to him and slammed the back of his head in a swift move, bringing him down on the spot. The last one hadn't gotten over his shock yet, so Ed simply took the knife from his hand, grabbing his wrist to put behind his back, forcing him to kneel.

"Anyone has something else to say?!" he said, glaring at the three out of five still conscious men.

They quickly whimpered in disagreement.

Out of the bandit's view, Ed quickly transmuted some twigs (trying not to think what Teacher would say at the lazy overuse of alchemy he'd been committing in the past several days) into ropes and used them to tie them up together, accompanied by the old couple bickering in the background. Much to his amusement they were still going when he finished, completely unaware that the danger had passed.

" _...nie wspominając o tym jak mlaszczesz przy każdym posiłku! Słowo daję że wyszłam za świnię zamiast mężczyznę!_ "

" _Czy to jest dobry moment, kobieto?! Zaraz przez ciebie zginiemy, ty jędzo!_ "

" _Jeśli mam ostatnią okazję na dobrze zasłużone obelgi przed naszym grobem, to nie mam żadnych żalów!_ "

Ed managed to understand the last part, something about 'last well-deserved insults before their grave', and couldn't help but laugh out loud; the small shot of adrenaline temporarily cured him of his earlier dark mood.

It felt _so_ good to just beat up some bad guys like the old times!

The couple stopped, looking around in confusion, then stared with their eyes wide at the sight of the tied bandits.

"O moi bogowie..." the woman breathed, astonished.

Edward ignored their hilariously flabbergasted expressions, and he decided to begin his interrogation of the leader.

"Hey, idiot face!" He poked the man who groaned half-consciously in response. "Yeah, you! Wake up, moron!"

The leader finally opened his eyes, grimacing in pain. "What…?"

"There we go. Would you mind answering a couple of questions for me?"

The man gasped when he realized his situation. "What the hell?!"

Ed put the knife he got from one of the bandits closer to his throat. "No, _I'm_ asking the questions, not you. You got it?" He had no intention of killing the guy, of course. But _he_ didn't know that.

Apparently the bandit had some brain cells left in him, as he quickly stilled and said with subtle distaste: "Yes."

"You speak Xerxesian, right?"

"Yes."

"How did you learn it?"

The man gave him a suspicious look. "I was taught."

"By **whom**?" Edward pressed the blade to the skin without injury, but the threat was clear.

He gulped. "...Armin. He was Xerxesian."

Ed blinked. "Come again?"

"Our past member. He died last spring," the man continued, not understanding Ed's confusion.

"Armin ran from Xerxes years ago after he got caught stealing by an overseer."

"Armin… was from Xerxes," Ed repeated slowly, his mind turning. He felt a bit light-headed.

"...Yes?"

It took all of his control to keep his expression stern and his breathing steady. How to ask without raising suspicions...

"What is your name?" he asked, stalling.

"Branko."

"Branko. Right. What year did you form you little group?"

"Uh… 1472, I think?"

No.

No, no no no no.

This couldn't be happening.

"What year did Armin join you?" Ed forced himself to keep going, trying to keep rampaging thoughts at bay.

Branko must have sensed Edward's change of mood, as he paled significantly. "1473, three years ago!" he said quickly.

Three years ago.

In other words, according to Branko… it was 1476.

_1476._

This was...

"You're not lying," Ed said flatly while mentally reeling.

"I'm not! W-what did you want with Armin? We knew nothing m-more about him, that's all he told us, I swear!"

"That's none of your business," the Fullmetal Alchemist replied. "I need you to translate some things for me."

"What?" Branko said warily.

Ed pulled out his notebook and started listing words and terms he knew he needed in order to be able to learn more from his two companions. Judging by Branko's nervous attitude he tried his best to answer correctly, hopefully giving correct translations. When he was done, Edward hid his book and sighed.

"You're in luck today, Branko. I'm in a good mood so I'm letting you guys go. But I'll be keeping your weapons." Ed glared at the blatant hope on the man's face. He tried to emulate Scar as he continued: "A piece of advice for the future: try not to attack innocent travelers on the road. Because if we ever meet again? _I will not be nearly as merciful._ "

It worked surprisingly well, seeing as Branko actually shuddered in fear at Ed's empty threat. Either the alchemist was more intimidating that he realized, or the guy had never been threatened before in his life. He suspected it was the latter. He was too shaken inside to truly bring out his best performance.

He didn't like the idea of letting the bandits go without punishment (they would find new weapons eventually, and he doubted his threat was good enough to keep them from robbing people for good), but he really didn't have any other options. Especially not now, if what Ed believed was happening was truly happening.

He barely paid attention when the freed bandits scattered like scared rabbits, two of them carrying their unconscious comrade. At least they had enough solidarity not to leave him behind. Good for them.

But Edward couldn't care less after his revelation.

_Xerxes._

_...Truth, you_ _**absolute. Goddamned. Bastard**_ _._

There was a piece of him that didn't want to believe it - maybe Branko had lied to him. But, how then would he explain the fact that not only some traveling couple he came across spoke Xerxesian, but also some random _bandit_?

Also, he realized what that landscape he saw the first day reminded him of.

 _I was looking at_ _**Central**_ _. At what_ _**would** __be Central someday. Truth didn't dump me in some random place at all… I was still in the same place, just four hundred years too early._

But why the _hell_ was he _**here?!**_

He ignored the couple speaking to him - something about him being alright or something - and the next moment he was sitting in the wagon again, traveling east.

With _Xerxes_ as their goal, apparently.

 _"I want to stop the Homunculus. I need to go back to a place and time when he can be still defeated,_ _**before he executes his plan and kills everyone**_ _."_

Wording his wish carefully, indeed. Perhaps too carefully.

Ed had completely forgotten that Amestris was not the first time the Homunculus committed mass genocide. Obviously he hadn't meant Xerxes, there was no way Truth didn't know that, right?

Then again, when the hell had Truth ever done what Edward wanted?

He clenched his fists, shaking.

 _So, let's summarize this. I'm over four hundred years in the past, with no means of returning to the future. The future where the Homunculus slaughters our entire nation for nothing. And I'm supposed to stop this…_ _**how?** _

He was too early to do **anything!** What was he going to do, wait until the Homunculus destroys Xerxes and then-

No. This wasn't it at all.

 _...Truth, what the hell are you_ _**playing at**_ _?_

He wanted to **stop** the Homunculus. Who hadn't destroyed Xerxes yet.

Meaning, he wasn't immortal right now… and neither was Hohenheim.

Edward's breath froze in his throat when his brain made all the connections at once.

One. Xerxes could still be saved.

Two. Without his immortality, the Dwarf in the Flask could be killed easily.

Three. The only person from his time who was currently alive was Hohenheim.

Four. Countless lives which had been lost in distant past, an entire _nation_ he never imagined himself responsible for before, was now resting on his shoulders.

And five. If he did indeed change this event… forget saving Amestris. Amestris would never exist.

And neither would he. Neither would Alphonse.

With four hundred years separating Trisha and Hohenheim, _his parents would never meet._

In other words, he had two choices. Either he would stand aside, do nothing, and watch a country get slaughtered again, leaving history intact… Or he would erase his own country's existence to save another.

He would have to erase the existence of everyone he knew.

He would have to erase Al's.

He would have to _sacrifice his own brother._

* * *

_**"...Remember that every action you perform shall have consequences."** _

_**"It's the law of Equivalent Exchange...  
...right, Mr. Alchemist?"** _

* * *

Ed couldn't sleep.

He felt beyond exhausted. He hadn't had a full night's sleep for a full week. One day he spent fighting on the Promised Day, and six days since he woke in the past.

But he couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. Because the dream changed.

_A blood-chilling, metallic noise rang through the air, Alphonse's armor standing perfectly still, a single arm helplessly reaching out. But it wasn't a shadow-blade piercing through the suit…_

_...It was a blade attached to an automail arm._

_The armor collapsed in slow motion, the hollow ring vibrating like an earthquake. The helmet rolled towards him, reflecting his face, but it no longer looked like his._

_He had Father's face, cold inhuman eyes back staring at him as screams rang in the air..._

It was a miracle Ed wasn't waking up screaming every night.

He spoke enough Xerxesian now that he was able to ask the couple when they would arrive at Xerxes. He almost regretted getting an answer.

Tomorrow they would reach the city Edward only knew ruins of. He would have to make his decision, and he deep down already knew what it was.

No matter how much he wished things were different, he was faced with an impossible choice. Even if he let the history repeat itself, Al would still die because of him. Either way, he would never see his brother again.

 _Alphonse would never forgive me if I let this happen again. But… would he ever forgive me for what am I about to do_ _…_ _?_

He wanted to cry at the injustice of it all, but his eyes were dry. Because he hadn't deserved to cry ever since Al paid for his mistake, and he certainly didn't deserve it now.

He held his State Alchemist watch, an item he miraculously had held onto on the Promised Day. A paradoxical relict of the future. One that would never come to pass.

_Don't Forget  
3\. Oct. 11_

Although this had always served him as a reminder, the day he carved the message into the lid of the watch, he actually hoped that one day he would be able to forget... after he got his brother's body back. Now, with Alphonse lost to him, he knew the opposite would come true. He would never forget.

Below the old date, he carefully added a new one.

* * *

He had forgotten how hot it was in Xerxes. Unfortunately, northern automail did in heat as well as the common one did - in other words, not very well.

Surprisingly though, despite the high temperature and dry desert air he remembered from his memories of the ruins, the place wasn't a complete desert in his time. It wasn't difficult to discover why - there were countless water canals everywhere, allowing farmers to grow plants for the people and the animals. Seeing green Xerxes borders for the first time was when it really truly hit him - this was not his time.

Never before had he felt so lost.

The easy access to water became a literal life-saver for him, since he could use it to make ice packs and cool down his automail. It occurred to him however that he should avoid being seen doing alchemy, especially by clapping, so he made sure he was away from curious eyes as he did.

After all, if anyone found out he was from the future his life could be in danger, and the fate of Xerxes with it.

Another problem became apparent very quickly - he needed to blend in. When the three of them stopped in the first inn they came across on their way to the capitol, he immediately attracted too much attention with his red cloak, black leather pants and boots. The clothing which seemed very out of ordinary here. After making another golden coin in secret, he traded with the inn owner for a Xerxesian robe, a pair of sandals, and a bag of clean bandages.

He was well aware the bandages were a rather conspicuous disguise, but for the life of him he couldn't find a better solution to hide his automail limbs. On the bright side, they _slightly_ protected him from the scorching heat, if only just barely.

When Ed and the couple (whose names he never learned in the end, but he was honestly glad - he refused to extend their forced coexistence through establishing a relationship with them by exchanging names!) reached the capital city, they finally parted their ways. With now much better understanding of Xerxesian, he managed to asked them not to spread rumors about him and his abilities. The couple agreed astonishingly easily.

"Anyway, who'd believe a scum like _him_ that a boy like you could make gold with his bare hands?" the woman scoffed at her husband.

"Me?! The question is who'd believe _you_ , you old ugly viper!" he man replied. Edward sincerely regretted he understood their arguments now. Truly, ignorance was bliss.

"Ugly?! Well, at least I'm not an overweight pig like you, you brainless fool!"

"Brainless?! How dare you, you useless hag!"

"You're calling me _useless_?! I cook _all_ your meals and wash _all_ your things _all the time_ , you ungrateful whelp!"

"And you're calling me _ungrateful_?! What am I supposed to be grateful for when you burn every meal and leave holes in my clothes?!"

"What?! You good-for-nothing _barbarian_!"

Ed sighed with pure relief as he walked away. Seriously. Saving the world _had_ to be easy compared to dealing with these two.

* * *

He had to admit… The city of Xerxes was beautiful.

He had seen the ruins, so Edward already knew it must have been an awe-inspiring civilization once. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of sandstone alleys filled with tall columns and roof gardens, the statues of chiseled marble, the streets filled with people of shining hair and eyes, reflecting in the sun like a river of liquid gold flowing through the city. He wasn't prepared for the sheer amount of _life_ and _energy_ all over the place, even more than he had witnessed during the rush hour on the busiest streets of Central City.

It was a humbling sight. It made Ed realize he might not know these people, that they might not be the friends and family he had loved and lost… but he had a connection to them. Through Hohenheim's blood, they were his people too.

They deserved a chance to exist. They deserved a chance to live. Now that he saw Xerxes with his own eyes… he couldn't let it die again.

He already knew he would make this decision before he came here. But it became true in his heart now, and it broke it.

Because as beautiful as this city was, this was not his home. He would never see home again.

He would erase it from existence, forever.

* * *

He was surprised when he came across a cemetery.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised - _of course_ the city had a cemetery, just because Xerxes hadn't been destroyed yet didn't mean no one had ever _died_ here. But the sight struck him, and he couldn't help but enter.

It looked different than an Amestrian cemetery. There, the coffins were buried, the headstone the only part of a grave which was visible above the ground. Here, the bodies were placed in stone ossuaries, some of them had statues on top of them or small shrines with flaming candles and flowers on them. It made Ed realize this was probably a cemetery for the wealthy, for surely the lower class couldn't afford burials like this.

It was the middle of the day and the cemetery was empty, with the exception of one person. A young man was kneeling before a grave with a big male statue, his head bowed in genuine respect and sorrow. Despite being a stranger, Ed felt sympathy.

Looking at the cemetery, an idea bloomed in his mind.

_I don't have a body to bury here. But maybe..._

He sighed. He had no time for this right now. He didn't know how much time was left before the Dwarf in the Flask would destroy Xerxes. It could be any day for all he knew, and he didn't have the slightest idea of where to find him.

He had to keep going.

He turned away and was just about to leave through the gate, when a glint of silver on a high roof caught his eye, followed by the sound of released string.

_NO!_

His body reacted on instinct, hands coming together with a clap before he could consider if it was a good idea. In one moment three things happened at the same time:

One, a wall of stone rose behind the back of the kneeling man.

Two, the man turned with a startled shout, falling to the ground.

Three, an arrow embedded itself in the wall.

"Stop!" Ed's feet chased in the direction of a figure disappearing behind the other side of the roof. But before he could get close to the building the would-be-assassin was long gone. "Damn it…!"

Someone just tried to kill some random person next to him and he didn't even catch them. What if they went and murdered someone else? Or decided to come back later to try again, only to succeed this time? Goddammit all.

But at least he reacted in time and the target was still alive, so that was something.

"Hey, you alright?" Ed went back to the the fallen man, lowering the wall back into the ground with another quick clap.

The man gaped at him.

"Y-yeah..." he stuttered, standing back on his feet. He wobbled a bit, probably shaken by the close call. "Thank you. But, how did you…?"

Ed inwardly cringed. He really shouldn't have used alchemy in public like this. Yes, he was lucky there were only two witnesses, one of whom he was pretty sure didn't see his face very well from such distance, but still... It raised questions and in his situation, no questions were good.

"Listen, I'm in a hurry," Not a complete lie… "And I have to go, so if you're really grateful for saving your life, could not please not mention this to anyone?"

"Um…?"

"Thanks, bye!" Ed walked away quickly without looking back.

"W-wait!" he heard the man yelling after him. "What's your name?"

"None of your business!"

"Do you even know who I am?"

"No idea and I couldn't care less!"

"Then why did you save me?!"

"I'm a decent human being, that's why!"

Ed left the cemetery not sparing the man one more glance.

(In hindsight, maybe he should have stayed and talked to him. It would have made things easier. But at the time, he had no way of knowing what kind of ripples he would cause by this one thoughtless act of kindness.

By saving one life which, in the original timeline, had not been saved by anyone.)

* * *

Ed was not happy.

It was his third day in Xerxes, and he was no closer to discovering where the Homunculus or Hohenheim were.

Sure, he'd asked around. Plenty of people heard rumors about Roshan, the royal alchemist. That didn't give Ed any clues as to where to find him. From what he remembered of Hohenheim's tale, the Dwarf in the Flask was made on the order of the King of Xerxes in hopes of discovering immortality, meaning the man who created him could not be anyone else other than a man working directly under the King.

And that, made his mission a lot more complex and complicated to deal with.

Firstly, no matter how much he wanted it, he couldn't just storm in and kill the Homunculus. He'd become a wanted man in an instant, and he didn't even have certainty whether that abomination had been created yet or not.

Secondly, even _if_ he managed to kill the Homunculus without being caught... If he left the alchemist responsible for his creation free to his devices _he could make a second one_. Which would be even worse, because an enemy whose motivations and end goals you're aware of are one thing, but a new one? An entirely _different_ one?

No, he absolutely _could not let that happen_.

Thirdly, there was the problem of the King and his damned circle of advisors. What kind of people would agree for a plan to sacrifice their entire _country_ for something as stupid as immortality? The kind who _didn't deserve to be in charge_ , that's who. The Homunculus might have been a direct cause for the fall of Xerxes first time around, but if nothing was done to fix this rotten government, Xerxes might be brought to ruin even without him being involved.

But Edward was just one person. He couldn't, you know, _conduct a revolution_ on his own. He had no idea where to start to fix this.

(For the first in many times to come, he regretted Mustang wasn't there. He was always...

… _Mustang shaking in fear with eyes filled with_ _ **pain-**_

...better at politics than Ed.)

There was also the matter Hohenheim.

Van _Goddamned_ Hohenheim. Currently known as slave number Twenty Three.

Even reluctant as he was about seeing him, Edward couldn't just leave him enslaved by the same crazed scientist who created the Homunculus. Even if Ed absolutely _abhorred_ his father, separating him from the Dwarf in the Flask was a number one priority. While he was no closer to figuring out how to deal with the damned _politics_ side of the problem…

…taking Hohenheim out of the Dwarf in the Flask's reach could actually be the key to stopping the Homunculus from succeeding.

Ed would have to study this closer, but the mural of the Xerxes transmutation array had been very specific in nature, just like the one in Amestris. There was a strong possibility that it wouldn't work without Hohenheim there, just like the Homunculi needed five sacrifices on the Promised Day.

Of course, there was still a risk: that removing Hohenheim from the picture would cause the Homunculus to design a completely different array. Still, it was the best solution Ed had so far.

(Besides, Al would never forgive him...

_...the armor collapsing like a puppet with cut strings-_

...if he didn't try to save their father.)

But how was he going to pull this off? He couldn't just sneak in and steal Hohenheim away in the middle of the night, how could he convince him to come along?! Not to mention someone was bound to notice and accuse him of kidnapping...

_...Wait a minute._

Ed realized something very unpleasant.

Hohenheim was a slave right now. _Slave_. Which meant… he could be sold. Like a _property_.

There was a sick feeling in his stomach.

Sometimes the easiest solutions might be the worst and the best at the same time.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Edward was grateful to come across a pickpocket.

It's been a week since his arrival in Xerxes, and not only he hadn't found anything on Roshan, he couldn't even find a _job_.

Yes. Him, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was homeless _and_ jobless at the moment, supported only by forged money. Awesome.

He knew very well that it was risky as hell to continue relying on transmuted gold to get by. He needed an actual income, otherwise sooner or later someone would realize his money came from thin air. Not to mention he was seriously messing with the economy. And true, he couldn't do _too much_ damage by himself, but it didn't make that alright. The rule about transmuting gold existed in the future for a reason, and as willing as he was to _bend_ the rules, he knew a thing or two about the consequences of _breaking_ them.

Which meant, he needed a job. And it seemed his age was even a bigger obstacle when it came to finding employment _now_ , in the past, than what it _used to_ be in the future... And it wasn't even the most serious one.

He hadn't realized the reason people refused him the moment they saw his bandages, at first. He thought that maybe it was prejudice against the disabled… but that couldn't be it, they could clearly see he could use his arm and leg, right?

Until one man threw him out, screaming:

" **Unclean, unclean!** Get out of my shop and never come near here again, you hear me?! I will not have you bring disease upon my household!"

Oh. He heard stories about it. He never imagined… But it made sense, now that he thought about it. Leprosy was a serious concern in these times, wasn't it?

Not eager to be accused of being a leper again, he made up a story about having burn scars. He made sure to mention it during every job interview, so there wouldn't be a confusion.

It didn't help. No one wanted someone so young as him. Most people didn't believe he was sixteen, and he had no way to prove it. Circumstances of being alone, sounding like a foreigner and appearing to be carrying a serious illness did not make him an attractive employee to anyone, and his temper severed by exhaustion only made things worse.

Going back to the pickpocket - it really was a blessing in disguise when he felt a small hand trying to slip into his bag.

Quick as lighting, Ed grabbed it by the wrist with his flesh arm and turned around.

He wasn't surprised to see a small boy, somewhere between seven and eleven (it was hard to tell with how scrawny he was) looking at him with fear. He'd seen plenty of child pickpockets before, and Xerxes was no exception when it came to homeless kids.

At first he just intended to let the kid go with a warning, it's not like he didn't understand the desperation - he was kind of in the same situation right now, even if he was able to get by with cheating rather than stealing.

But then he realized… street kids were _smart_. They heard things, they _knew_ things. Why haven't he thought about this before?

"Hey kid," he said kindly. "You look hungry."

The boy blinked at him, speechless.

"How about we make a deal? I'm looking for someone, but I have a bit of trouble finding them. It's a big city." He could see the interest in his eyes already, so he slowly let him go. "If you help me out, I'll buy you food, and we can forget this ever happened."

"How much?" the kid asked suspiciously.

Ed considered. He would probably become more dedicated to the task if he was promised more than he could fill his own stomach with - street kids tended to live in groups, and care for your loved ones was a powerful motivator. "Four loaves of bread," he said, knowing full well Xerxesian loaves were rather large. Big enough that a kid his age probably wouldn't be able to carry more than four at once.

The boy gasped in surprise, eyes shining with eagerness. Yup, just as Ed thought.

"Who are you looking for?"

"His name is Roshan. He is the royal alchemist who works for the King. Ever heard of him?"

The boy nodded, cautiously. "I think so."

"Do you know where he lives?"

The pickpocket frowned thoughtfully before answering: "I don't know... but I know where to ask if you're looking for information about nobility. They know pretty much everything."

Bingo.

"Will you show me?"

"You have to pay first," came a stubborn reply.

He had to give this kid credit, he had guts. But he was smart too. He couldn't help but smile at him.

"Sure. Let's get to a bakery. You know where's the nearest one?"

"This way," the boy pointed.

He could feel the curious looks from the kid as he made the purchase. When the four loaves were safely tucked in his arms, his curiosity finally won over apprehension and he asked: "What's your name, mister?"

Ed saw no harm in sharing his first name. Reputation among the homeless might come in handy someday. "Ed. It's short for Edward."

The boy mouthed the name to himself. "That's a weird name."

Ed huffed. "Yeah, and what's yours?"

"Zerang."

"And you think _my_ name is weird?" He stick his tongue out childishly.

Zerang must have realized Ed was kidding around, since a big smile appeared on his face. One of his teeth was missing, leaving a gap in a sharp white grin. Ed had a feeling he earned the kid's trust. "I'll take you to one of the Cat Ears now."

"Cat Ears?"

"That's what they call themselves." Zerang shrugged, showing him the way. "They sneak around and gather information. They know a lot about the King's court."

"Huh." Ed wondered if there was more to it than the kid was saying. Organizations like this often didn't just gather information… some were mercenaries for hire. Assassins. Like the archer he saw the first day he arrived in Xerxes.

He let that thought be for now.

"You sure they'll know where to find Roshan?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"They'll want their own payment, won't they." It figured.

"Nothing is for free!" Zerang smirked at him. Ed just rolled his eyes in response, getting a laugh out of the kid.

They entered a shady-looking tavern. Somehow, the location didn't surprise Edward in the slightest. The bartender was a bit more unexpected - not Xerxesian, but of clear Xingnese descent.

"好种出好苗，好树结好桃。" said Zerang, looking the man in the eye.

Apparently a password of some kind, the man just nodded and turned to Ed. "How may I help you?" he asked in clear Xerxesian. Zerang took that as his cue to leave.

Ed made a mental note about the password for the Cat Ears. It might be quite useful someday, if he's to accomplish anything regarding the current government. "I'm trying to find a man named Roshan."

"The royal alchemist?"

"Yes."

"He has several smaller residences in the country, but that's not what you're interested in, is it." The man was sharp. He let Ed know he had information, but without giving away details, making the incomplete knowledge close to useless.

"I want to know where his current residence is here in the city."

"That's all?" He tilted his head with interest. "Hm. Five gold pieces."

Edward narrowed his eyes. This man was attempting to rob him in broad daylight. "One gold piece."

"That's absurd, lad. Four."

"Exactly. One."

"Very well, three then."

"You think I'm an idiot? I could find this information anywhere else and we both know it. One."

"But you're here, aren't you. Three is my final offer."

"Two and not a speck of dust more, take it or leave it."

"Done."

It was still a huge rip off, but Edward tired and willing to do almost anything to just get this over with. He handed half the money and gave the Xingnese man an expectant look.

He raised his brow with a tilt of his mouth that could almost pass for a smirk, but not quite. "I think I like you, 小东西。"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO LITTLE HE COULD FIT IN A BOTTLE!" Ed roared.

That made the man chuckle for a second. "You know my language? Color me impressed. Very few bother to learn."

"Some of it," Ed grunted, scowling. "But enough. Do NOT call me short again, or I'll knock your teeth in."

"I'll try." His expression said otherwise, though.

Turned out the man could be actually helpful when he wanted to be. He explained how to find Roshan's home, adding a warning about the guards, and even agreed to draw Ed a map. Satisfied, Ed gave him the rest of payment and concluded their business:

"If I ever need any more information, will I find you here?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm going to be on the move soon."

Edward knew better than to ask why.

"What about other Cat Ears? That's what you guys are called, right?"

"Hm..." The man considered him for a moment. "If you need more help, come here asking for Mu Laohu."

"Mu Laohu?" Ed repeated carefully. "That means Tigress, right?"

"Indeed. Trust me, she'll have what you need."

Now _there_ was a slogan if he ever heard one.

"Well, thanks for everything." Ed turned on his heel without further ado.

"再会，小东西！" the Xingnese man called after him with a smug face.

"I AM NOT SMALL, DAMMIT!"

* * *

Ed made his decision. Now that he knew where to find Roshan, he needed to have a place to live nearby. He couldn't keep sleeping in the inn, people were starting to whisper about him, to ask him questions. He needed privacy - he needed a place to plan.

He also needed a hidden space where he could clean his automail in peace, without worrying about being caught. If some people had chased him out because they suspected he was a leper, he didn't want to think what they'd do if they saw what was beneath the bandages...

That couple from the road thought he was some sort of demon just because he made gold. What would they consider him to be if they saw his limbs?

All houses the area Roshan seemed to be occupied, but Ed was determined not to give up. He didn't want to live on the same street anyway - the houses were probably ridiculously expensive and it was too close to the Homunculus for comfort.

There was a middle-class area a couple of streets over with a market practically next door, where he soon found the perfect house; it looked not an inch or above middle class, not to large and not too small, with a water well nearly in front of it (he was already planning transmuting underground plumbing). The only problem was that a family lived there.

It didn't deter him. _He wanted that house!_

If he had the energy, he probably would have come up with a clever solution to make them leave. But because he'd been running for two weeks straight on barely any sleep and was well out of patience, he decided to take the obvious approach.

"Hello there!" Ed showed up at their door with a smile. The man of the family looked at him strangely. Edward took it in stride, his grin was probably looking pretty deranged by this point. "This is a really nice house you got here!"

"Uh, thank you? And who are you?"

"Who cares! You have something I want, and I," he stepped aside, showing the man a cart full of gold "have something you'd want, am I right?"

The man stared with his jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes like he couldn't believe it.

"What do you say? You give me the house right now, and I give you all this money, no strings attached. Equivalent Exchange." Not quite, he was pretty sure the gold was _at least_ several times more worth than the house, but if that meant Ed could get this over with _immediately_ , it was worth it.

Judging by the man's elated expression, he agreed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> Hello everyone! I'm finally back! :) I told you I did not abandon this story.
> 
> Special thanks for Guest reviewer Alice, whose review motivated me to finally post this chapter! Thanks, Alice! Thank you all very much!
> 
> Ed haven't really dealt with his grief yet, as you can see. But it is coming. Forgive me, Edward! I'm sorry I make you suffer so much! :'(
> 
> Several OCs were introduced, but don't worry, I'm not planning on making any of them main characters. They will all play a part in the story, though, even the ones that won't return.
> 
> You might have noticed, but I like to sprinkle other languages sometimes. I hope you guys don't mind, I made sure they didn't say anything actually relevant to the plot in those lines. Congratulations to everyone who figured out that I used Polish language for Xerxesian! And I suppose I don't need to explain what language goes for Xingnese… ;P
> 
> On a different note, I searched for information about the destruction of Xerxes online, but I couldn't find any exact dates about it. However:
> 
> In the original timeline, Hohenheim was about thirty years old when Xerxes was destroyed (it took the King years before he finished the array), making it around 430 years between his birth and the Promised Day in spring 1915. And since Hohenheim is fifteen years old in this story, and I don't believe in miraculously even numbers between events (reminds me of all those weird "after a 1000 years, exactly!" prophecies too much) I made it so the current year is 1476. Makes sense? Yes? Good!
> 
> Regarding technology: I decided to use the medieval times lifestyle for this story, which means gunpowder isn't known yet (it was already invented in Xing and they use it for fireworks, but no guns or cannons). It's also too early for electricity or the steam engine.
> 
> Although Europe already had guns late fourteenth century, I decided to move the timeline a bit. The existence of alchemy could explain why scientists were more focused on it than on inventing explosives. Also, it's a well known fact that best weapons are developed for wartime, so it only makes sense that Amestris invented them soon after its foundation, being a militaristic country. It would also explain why they had color photographs earlier than in Europe, as they were almost constantly at war for four hundred years.
> 
> Additional notes: this story won't involve MUCH politics, as I freely admit, it's not my strong suit, but I wrote down some notes in case you wished to know:
> 
> Xerxes' current population reaches a million. Drachma already exists, but much smaller, about nine million in population and separated by the mountains and uninterested in Xerxes for the moment. Ishval is a peaceful country in the south separated by the desert, and its population is three times smaller than Xerxes. Also separated by the desert, Xing is currently broken up into separate states and its western state has a peace treaty with Xerxes due to a war some years ago that did not end in their favor. Their total population is over a 100 million, but ununited. Amestris doesn't exist, and the area switches between being occupied by Aerugo and Drachma due to a prolonged conflict - it's considered uncivilized and barbarian due to lack of stable political power and bandits who make life difficult for both the habitants and travelers. Its population is below 10 thousands instead of 50 millions.
> 
> It doesn't reflect fifteenth century Europe well, but otherwise Xerxes could never manage as a country with a population like this. So much for historical accuracy, huh?
> 
> Also good to know: Xerxes is a monarchy with an unofficial caste system, which consists of: nobility (intellectuals and landowners), higher middle class (craftsmen, tradesman and sometimes landowners), lower middle class (builders and farmers) and slaves. Although Ed has no official class, his education automatically makes him at least higher middle class. As shown through Van it is possible to become a member of a different class, so it's not as rigid as the caste system in India. But the law protects mostly the higher class, with no regard for slaves.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, please leave comments, follow and add to your favorites if you can, but most importantly - read on and enjoy! :)


	10. A Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed is reminded that an act of kindness goes a long way. Then he gets to meet the royal alchemist of Xerxes and teenaged Van Hohenheim for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!!!

A young man sat at his desk staring down, lost in thought. One would think that a brush with death, saved only by the unexpected kindness of a stranger, would fill him with fear of his own mortality and yearning for eternal life, like many other nobles these days. But instead, it made him vividly aware of just how absurd and pointless was the pursuit of immortality.

Back when his father was still alive, he remembered being told the story of Arash and Bahram, two guards of the royal family and brothers-in-arms. When faced with the choice to abandon each other to save their lives, or to stay and fight as one, they chose to stand together. As a child, he never quite understood the moral of the story. Wouldn't it be better for them to be apart, if they both got to live because of it? But now, after his experience - not the first close call he had survived, but the closest one he had so far - he realized that he had been looking at the lesson all wrong.

Life was a fleeting, precious thing. No matter how secure one may feel in their position, death could come for anyone at any moment. Which meant, every moment ought to be cherished - and the people as well.

"Master?" A timid female voice broke him out of his contemplation.

The man turned around.

"Ava, please. We're alone," he spoke to his servant, looking at her solemnly.

Her eyes immediately softened.

"Eiliar," she corrected herself. "Are you alright?"

"I am well," he quickly assured her, but she didn't seem convinced. She sighed deeply.

"Forgive me, I just worry for you. After today..."

"I know." He stood up from his desk and approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But I'm completely fine, I promise you."

Looking into her concerned eyes, he felt himself grow stronger in his decision.

"I don't understand how someone could attack you in a _cemetery_ of all places..." Her hands fidgeted, playing with her wooden necklace. "Who in their right mind would dare to attempt such a thing? Even Ishvalans know better than to desecrate the resting place of the dead."

"Perhaps someone who doesn't respect the gods," he replied. "Or doesn't believe in them at all."

"Even those who do not worship any gods know better than that. Cemeteries are sacred."

"Perhaps he wasn't Xerxesian. I never saw him, so I cannot be sure."

She moved as if she was going to touch him, but stopped. "Still, I am so glad that you're safe."

He hesitated for a moment, then decided - to Duzakh with it. It was time to stop wasting time on doubt, and start caring about things that truly mattered. Ava was important. Perhaps the most important person in his life.

In a swift move, he enveloped her in a gentle embrace. He felt her stiffen in surprise.

"Mas- Eiliar?" she whispered, her voice unsteady. Her arms shyly returned the gesture.

"Ava," Eiliar said quietly, but with feeling. "If I asked you to marry me… would you?"

"What?" she gasped, shocked. "Eiliar! You can't mean that!"

"Of course I mean it. Do you love me?"

"I… Of course I do, but-"

"And I love you. That should be enough reason for two people to marry."

"But I am only your servant."

Eiliar released her, facing her again.

"I do not care," he told her, absolutely serious.

"You should! What about your reputation?"

He shook his head. "We both know I wouldn't be the first noble to marry a servant."

"Still! You should not..."

"...Make my reputation any _worse_ than it already is?"

Ava looked away. "It would be easier if we were together in secret."

Eiliar put his fingers on her chin, turning her head back to him. "You believe I would ever dishonor you in such a way?"

"Most slave owners do."

He frowned, greatly displeased. "Since when do you take me for a man on their level, Ava?"

Her expression immediately flooded with shame and regret. "No, of course I don't! I never meant-"

"What is this about? Do you not wish to marry me?"

"I do!" she said passionately, finally giving up pretences and putting her arms around his neck. "I love you, I want to be with you more than anything!"

"Then why?"

She pressed her forehead against his.

"You have such grand plans, I wish for nothing more than for you to succeed," she confessed guiltily. "I fear that if you marry me openly I would become the reason for your failure, and it's a thought I simply cannot stand."

"Ava, you could never lead me to failure," he told her with certainty. "It was you who opened my eyes in the first place. You make me want to be a better man. The reason for my ambitions, my convictions, they're all because of _you_."

"Eiliar..."

"Please… marry me?" he asked once again.

"Yes," she finally agreed, tears in her eyes.

Later, they sat next to each other hand in hand, no longer feeling any shame.

"The assassin is still out there," she said with worry. "And the people who hired him, too."

"I know," he sighed. "We will have to go into hiding until they are caught."

"What about the man who saved you? The one who performed miracles with his hands? Could he help?"

"Even if he could, I have no idea where he is."

"We should still try to find him."

"He never even told me his name."

"But you said that he wore bandages on his right arm and left leg, right? I'm sure-"

He gently interrupted her, shaking his head. "As much as I wish to find him to thank him for his great deed… I do not believe he wishes to be found. He asked me not to mention him to anyone as his reward for saving me. I do not intend to repay him by doing what I was specifically asked not to do."

Ava tugged her necklace, frustrated. "But if we found him, he could protect you."

" _If_ we manage to find him… I'll definitely offer him a position in the household as my bodyguard. But until then, I think spreading rumors about a miracle worker in Xerxes would be very unwise. Especially now when the King is seeking immortality."

"Right." Ava squeezed his hand. "Eiliar, am I evil for hoping that the King meets his end before he can reach his goal?"

"Only if it makes me an evil man too," he admitted. "Kyros is mad, Ava. He has long lost reason and any care for Xerxes. The only things he loves now are power and the idea of eternal life. What's even worse, most of the Court indulges him. Uncle Rayan is one of the few people left who has any courage to disagree with him, but he's lost a lot of influence in the past ten years and I worry he might lose his position as a counselor one day."

"He will be fine," she tried to comfort him. "He's survived in the court for decades, I believe in him. He will make it."

"I hope so," Eiliar sighed, leaning on Ava's shoulder for strength. "I sincerely hope so."

"And I hope we find that miracle worker, too."

* * *

Edward Elric sneezed suddenly while adjusting the sign above his stand. That's weird, it usually only happened when someone was talking about him - pretty doubtful, seeing as he was in the wrong time period for anyone to know him.

He sighed. This was going to be a complete flop, wasn't it.

A repair stand. That's where his life had lead him to. He was setting up a _repair stand_.

But, to be fair, his main goal wasn't money at all. He already knew he wasn't going to earn much, if anything from the stand. No, the reason he was setting up his own place at the market was to observe alchemist Roshan's mansion - and hopefully to hear some useful gossip from the locals.

After buying his house, he spent almost a week fixing it up. The plumbing was first - he refused to throw waste onto the street from his window, that was just disgusting. The nearby well allowed him to set up a boiler with a system to filter the water. The filter was especially necessary, for he shuddered at the thought of what kind of diseases could be infesting a public water supply like that. Not to mention he could hardly count on modern medicine to save him if he got ill in the future.

To avoid drawing attention to the adjustments, they had to be set up underground - in a hidden basement. Seeing as the house didn't have a basement before, he had to put a lot of effort into making it safe so that the house wouldn't collapse on the top of it. It was hard work, but in the end he managed it.

After finishing the basement, for the first time he could safely pull off the bandages and take care of his automail, away from any prying eyes. Frankly, it was in terrible shape - Winry would have been devastated. She would have ripped Ed a new one if she saw the condition the desert journey had left his limbs in. ...Now, she would never get to help him with his automail again. Just thinking about it made Edward depressed. How sad it was that he missed being hit in the head with a wrench?

Also it made him realize, he was in an era where no automail mechanics existed. In other words, if something happened to his arm or leg - he was screwed. He would be a cripple forever.

Cripple. Not a word he often associated with himself. He hoped it would never come to that - Xerxes apparently wasn't a kind place to the physically disabled.

Aside from cleaning his automail, the secret basement quickly became the place Ed spent most of his time in - drawing maps of the streets, writing down names and places he'd learned, making plans. Performing alchemy, especially. He even transmuted a small electric system and attached a lightbulb to the ceiling. It needed to be recharged often, but it almost felt like being in a low-budget apartment in East City.

Admittedly, separated from the outside world, he often forgot to eat… or sleep. He tried, okay?! But it was difficult to keep track of meal times when there was so much important work to be done!

(Dammit, Al would be so...

_...Alphonse's armor collapsing in slow motion-_

...disappointed by him.)

Anyway, his house was finished now and it was time to carry out his first plan: Operation Hohenheim.

Step One: gather information about Roshan at the market.

Step Two: infiltrate Roshan's home.

Step Three: negotiate for Hohenheim's release.

(He refused to write the world "buy" in this context. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach.)

Ed honestly didn't know what he was going to do with him afterwards. How old was Hohenheim now, anyway? Seeing as the plan was to keep him out of Father's reach, should Edward just send him to Xing so he could find a better life there? But he probably didn't have any alchemical knowledge at this point, so there was little chance of him becoming the Western Sage, inventing Alkahestry and repeating history.

...Who was Ed kidding, history was screwed no matter what he did. Sending Hohenheim to Xing was never going to fix anything.

 _You could ask him to stay with you,_ a voice sounding a lot like Al's suddenly whispered to him.

Yeah, right. Like that was a good idea.

...It was a horrible idea. It _had_ to be a horrible idea. Right?

Right…?

Yet the idea wouldn't stop pestering him, especially at four in the morning when he struggled to sleep.

He was completely alone here.

 _I don't need his help,_ Ed argued with himself.

The loneliness was already getting to him, slowly driving him insane.

Edward tossed around his bed. _I don't need that bastard. I never needed him._

And Hohenheim was the only person left in the world that he was familiar with. It was a cold, hard fact.

Suddenly, Ed remembered meeting up Hohenheim right before the Promised Day.

_"Listen, Edward. He has to be stopped at all cost. I need you to help me."_

_"Help you?! Now, look here. I'm gonna stop that Bearded Bastard, but I'm_ _**not** __doing this because you want me to help you! Our best chance to beat this guy is to team up, and it's the_ _ **only reason I'm even talking to you right now!**_ _"_

_"...That's fine with me. It doesn't matter what your reasons are as long as you still fight alongside me."_

"God dammit," Ed moaned, rubbing at his face.

He wasn't being fair. The Hohenheim in the future might have abandoned him and Al, but _this_ wasn't _that_ Hohenheim.

He wasn't a living Philosopher's Stone. He wasn't the Western Stage who inspired the creation Alkahestry. He wasn't the man who abandoned his wife and sons for ten years.

This Hohenheim was a slave. He's never done anything to him - he couldn't, probably. Edward would have complete advantage over him in every way. He would not be the frightened little boy who watched his father walk out the door with a cold look in his eyes, or the teen feeling towered over by the adult accusing him of running away from his problems.

Ed would be his superior. He would be the one calling the shots. He would be his… master.

The thought was disturbing to him in a way he couldn't explain.

 _He has to agree to it willingly,_ he finally made up his mind. _I will not force him to stick around. He probably won't want to, anyway. Why would he? Technically, I'm not even his son - genetically maybe, but not in any way that matters. I'm just a stranger. He's going to leave, like he always does._

Still...

If nothing else, he owed Al to try. If Al was the one in Ed's position, he would have adopted Hohenheim in a heartbeat. If they were never going to be a family, the least Edward could do was try to be Hohenheim's friend.

If Hohenheim didn't want it, though, all bets were off. Xing was a pretty nice place, probably. It'd be fine. Ed didn't care.

That wasn't even important right now, anyway! What mattered was getting Hohenheim **out**. Anything else could wait.

Ed sighed heavily, his recent insomnia and boredom getting to him. He forced his eyes to follow the people walking around, paying the closest attention to the street leading to Roshan's mansion.

After observing the crowds for a while, he was starting to notice subtle differences between classes. He wasn't an expert on fashion, but it was pretty conspicuous some people wore clothes of much poorer quality than others - those were probably the slaves, or at the very least servants. Listening to the people shopping taught him a lot about the language, too. He was pleasantly surprised by how fast he was picking it up - turns out that once you knew what you were looking for, the grammar structures were pretty familiar, if not _simpler_ than Amestrian. He was sure his accent was horrible, but whatever. What mattered was that now he was able to properly communicate with people without charades - that was progress.

(He would never admit to paying _special_ attention to the words describing _size_ of things. Nuh uh, no way. He just wanted to be aware whenever people would incorrectly _insinuate things_ about his height so he could correct them - that's all!)

Overall, information gathering was pretty boring so far. The most excitement he got was when he spotted a scamming trader in a nearby stand - once Ed loudly pointed him out, it caused quite a stir on the market. He tried to flee, but Edward was fast enough to tackle him to the ground. Later, after some guards arrested the guy, another merchant came by and thanked him for catching the trader in the act. He didn't get what the big deal was. He just did what anyone would have done.

Just as his tired eyes were tempted to close for a moment, a sudden commotion drew his attention.

There was an older woman in the street, who judging by her position on the ground had just fallen down. There was a spilled bucket of water next to her. Someone was yelling at her, but she didn't seem to be getting up.

Before he knew what he was doing, Ed left his stand and was walking closer.

"...where you're going, stupid old hag! Apologize!"

The woman was shaking slightly. She was at least fifty, she could be hurt - and yet some jerk was screaming at her like she had murdered his children. Ed felt his blood boil at the sight.

"Answer to me, slave! What are you, mute?"

Slowly, she raised her head and nodded twice. The man stopped for a moment, surprised.

"You are? Well, I shouldn't be surprised then," he snorted, looking like he was about to kick her. "No wonder you have the brain of a pig."

"Hey!" Ed stood between them, gritting his teeth. "That's enough."

"And who are you, her handler?"

Edward gave the man the coldest, most dangerous glare in his arsenal.

"Don't you have places to be?" he told him slowly, each word promising pain.

The man, apparently having a _small_ portion of sanity intact, realized it was in his best interest to listen. He quickly left without another word. Before he disappeared from sight the crowd returned to normal, people deciding the entertainment was over.

"Hey." Ed gently helped the woman up. "Are you alright?"

She looked at him closely, confused at his concern. Finally, she nodded.

"Is this yours?" Ed lifted up the mostly empty bucket.

The old lady subtly gave the container a sad, tired look. She'd probably been dragging it from the well - for a young person it wasn't a long trip, but for someone her age? It must have been exhausting, and likely it wasn't even her first round today. No wonder she had fallen.

Then, something occurred to Edward.

"Hey, do you know Roshan the royal alchemist by any chance?"

Suddenly, there was a wary look in her eyes. She nodded reluctantly.

"Do you work for him?"

Another nod.

Ed realized it was a pretty good opportunity.

"I wish to speak with him. Would you mind if I came along?"

After a moment of indecision, she shook her head. Ed felt a sting of guilt when he considered she couldn't possibly say no to him. After that earlier display, he was pretty sure everyone treated slaves like garbage around here, especially ones with disabilities.

It made sense. It did not make it any less sickening.

"Great!" He grabbed the bucket in his right hand in a way that made it obvious he intended to carry it. "You need to go back to the well first, right? I'll come with you."

Once again, her face took a confused expression. After a beat, she bowed, pointing with her arm in the direction of the well. Understanding that she wanted him to lead, he reluctantly made his way before her. She followed him obediently, her head still bowed.

It was unsettling.

"Um," Edward knew it was probably normal. That he should let it be. But… He couldn't help himself, it bothered him. "Doesn't it hurt walking like that?"

She looked up, surprised.

"I mean..." Ed shrugged awkwardly. "It looks pretty bad for your back. Especially after that fall. You don't have to, you know, bow or whatever. I don't care."

There was something very shrewd about her when she appraised him this time: his face, his hands, the bucket. Ed felt himself sweat a little under her gaze. It reminded him of Granny's, whenever he'd gotten himself into trouble.

Then, like sun peeking from behind the clouds, something warm entered her eyes. Her lips twitched the smallest amount, and if it weren't for the wrinkles Edward could have sworn it was a smile. Deliberately, she reached his left hand and lifted it. Ed allowed it, if a bit puzzled.

Gently, like the slightest amount of force could shatter it, she patted his hand.

Then he understood. She was saying thank you. And not in a way a slave would say it, either - it was more personal, a gesture of trust. He doubted many people would allow her to touch them like that - or at all. It was brave.

It was also the first act of kindness he experienced since entering this new, old, unfamiliar world. It felt like someone was finally _seeing_ him, seeing a person. Like he wasn't so alone.

He felt himself choke up.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he said hoarsely.

Seeing him understand her, she actually smiled at him. Nodding again, she took the lead this time. Ed followed her.

They were silent until they reached the well. If was busy around, like it always was this time of the day - no one was paying attention to anyone else. Even if a free man filling a water bucket for a slave must have been quite a strange sight.

"So… about Roshan," Ed started.

The woman's face immediately became blank.

"How long have you been… working for him?"

She raised one finger.

"One year?"

She confirmed it.

"Is he..." Ed was hesitant to ask this, he knew the response wasn't going to be positive, but… "...treating you alright?"

She lifted an eyebrow. He'd never heard such loud sarcasm - even from people who could actually talk.

"That bad, huh," he muttered.

The woman began to wash her hands.

"Um…" He wasn't getting anywhere. He needed more information. "Do you know if he has a job position open, maybe? Like an assistant, or-"

She suddenly flinched, looking up sharply. Before he could ask what was wrong, she grabbed his hand, shaking her head in small movements.

Ed watched her, trying to understand. One of the things his experience with Alphonse had taught him, was reading body language - since Al hadn't had a face, he had to learn how to emote in other ways: such as subtle movements of arms and shoulders, tilting his helmet, hand gestures, twitches. And from what Ed could read, she was _screaming_ fear and unease at him right now, even if her face remained completely blank.

"Is being Roshan's assistant dangerous?" he asked in a low voice, careful so no one else would hear him beside the older woman.

She nodded, slowly.

"Is _Roshan_ dangerous?"

This time, she hesitated. Then she shook her head, but nodded afterwards too.

"It isn't about him," he figured out. "Roshan's alchemy is the danger, isn't it?"

She pressed her lips together. There was a small tremor in her hands.

"Don't worry," he tried to comfort her. "I know what I'm doing."

The woman shook her head again, this time more firmly. She showed her five fingers.

"Five?"

She pointed at him, her finger touching his heart.

"Five… men?"

Then she moved the finger across her throat.

Oh.

_Five men dead._

"He killed them?" Edward asked very quietly.

She shook her head and nodded. _Yes and no._

"His alchemy killed them."

Confirmation.

_Roshan's alchemy is killing people._

Edward understood _everything_ now. Roshan had his assistants perform Human Transmutation. How else would you create a Homunculus without a Philosopher's Stone and **survive**? The only way was not to actually perform the transmutation yourself, but have someone else do it for you.

He was a moron for not figuring out it sooner. Of course creating a Homunculus needed a Human Transmutation array, it was an attempt to create life for crying out loud. And like all alchemy it required Equivalent Exchange - it required life to be already _there_.

"Did he succeed already?" he asked, light-headed after his revelation.

Seeing the woman's face, she apparently didn't follow.

"Roshan is trying to create life with alchemy, right?" Ed explained, whispering. "Did he succeed?"

There was something dark in her expression.

"Please," he said softly, sensing her reluctance. "This is really important. Did he already succeed?"

She didn't move for a long moment. Then, as if in slow motion, she nodded.

The Dwarf in the Flask was alive.

* * *

After helping the old lady carry the bucket half way back, she silently insisted on taking it the rest of the way herself. Not wanting to get her in trouble Ed allowed it, his mind spinning from all the information he learned from a single conversation with a _mute person_.

He was insanely lucky, all things considered. The woman made a huge risk by telling him all of that. After all, why bother keeping a slave - an old one, too, and Roshan had been owning her for only a year - that couldn't talk? The answer was to stay _quiet_. If Roshan knew what Ed had found out from her, he'd probably try to kill them both. She obviously did it only because she wanted to save Ed from dying, like the other five men.

Man, he'd never even _met_ Roshan and he already despised him from the bottom of his heart.

From Edward's perspective, this situation made things harder and a lot simpler at the same time. On one hand, it meant that it was too late to get Hohenheim out before his blood was used - and the Dwarf in the Flask was already around. Both of which _sucked_.

On the other hand, it meant the Homunculus that currently existed was the Homunculus Ed was familiar with - that it wasn't a different one, with unknown ambitions and abilities. It made the future more predictable - and most importantly, it allowed Ed to use his second plan.

Operation Homunculus.

Now, this plan was a lot more complicated than Operation Hohenheim - but, if it succeeded, it would accomplish three things:

One: Xerxes would not be destroyed.

Two: no new Homunculus would be created in the near future.

Three: Ed wouldn't have to kill anyone.

However, the down-sides of this plan were:

One: it would be pretty damn difficult to pull off.

Two: it required keeping an eye on the Dwarf in the Flask constantly.

Three: doing it would prevent the future he knew from happening, erasing _everyone he knew_ \- except Hohenheim.

Ed was trying very hard not to think about the last one. It was too late to go back - he'd already made his decision. The awareness didn't make his nights any easier, though.

But first Operation Hohenheim had to be executed, stat. And as much as he appreciated the old lady's warning, becoming Roshan's assistant was the fastest way to infiltrate the mansion - and follow up with Operation Homunculus.

So he did the first logical thing - approached the guards and politely requested an audience with the royal alchemist.

He expected suspicion to be directed at him, but it seemed like a young man asking to see Roshan wasn't an unusual occurrence.

No wonder, if there were _at least five in the past year._

One of the guards sent a nearby servant to their master to ask if he was available at the moment. Ed idly wondered just how many slaves could one man have - as he would find out later, the answer is _a lot_.

As he was being escorted inside, his mind quickly assessed the situation.

_Alright, so they let me in with a guard just in case I tried to pull something. Makes sense. There are probably more guards inside. Still, I can probably take care of them fast and escape without problem if it comes down to it..._

_...But let's not get ahead of myself. First, I need to sell myself - so showing sympathy to slaves is a big no. I need to act like it doesn't bother me, like I support it even. I need to act confident, like a heartless bastard - I need to act like… Mustang._

_That's it! I have to channel Colonel Bastard! He was always a slave-driver, anyway. ...Not_ _**literally**_ _, but still. Be cocky, confident - but respectful to superiors. Suck-up to them._

 _...Okay, maybe not too much. I still need to come across as impressive - if I act too humble he won't take me seriously, not with my age. I was a State Alchemist for years and most people_ _**still** __didn't respect me because of that._

He entered what he supposed was the equivalent of a hearing room in Xerxes, where a bald guy in fancy robes sat in a ridiculously upholstered chair, in front of an equally obnoxious gilded desk.

 _ **This**_ _is Roshan? What a pig!_ Ed thought. _No, doesn't matter -_ _ **focus**_ _. Be confident. Respectful. Channel the Colonel. You can do this._

"Master Roshan," he said with a short bow, hoping he used the right title. "It is an honor."

"Welcome," Roshan responded, putting down his papers. "What is your name?"

"Edward Elric." He decided he had nothing to lose by using his real name. It's not like he had any reputation at his point.

"Hm. Edward Elric, why did you wish to see me?"

"I heard there is an open position for an alchemy assistant." That was a bit of a shot in the dark, but from what the old lady had let him know, it would make sense - unless Roshan already found a replacement. "I wish to prove myself to you."

"Is that so?" Roshan seemed only a little bit intrigued. "What exactly do you think you could offer me?"

"I am a genius." Ed stated without hesitation. Confident, but serious. "You would not regret it."

"Truly?" Roshan looked amused. Good. That meant he doubted him, but he would be willing to give him a challenge. "Can you give me a demonstration?"

It was a bait, one Roshan didn't believe Edward could follow up. He was about to be proven wrong.

"May I have a piece of chalk, please?" Ed didn't doubt he could run circles around this guy where it comes to alchemy, but he wasn't going to show all his cards - just enough to be accepted.

"Of course," Roshan opened a drawer and pulled out a wooden box full of chalk. "Go ahead."

Roshan probably thought Ed was just going to draw a circle on the floor and explain the theory behind it. Ed almost smiled evilly at the thought of what was about to come.

He took a two-inches-long piece of chalk, flipping it carelessly into the air then catching it with his left palm. Roshan raised an eyebrow at the pointless showing off.

Gracefully, he leaned down without getting on his knees, drawing a perfect circle around himself in one smooth rotation. It took him less than five seconds.

Glancing at Roshan, he saw that the alchemist's face was now free of amusement, his eyes wide open in surprise. Ed allowed himself a small smirk.

He stepped out of the circle and with fast, sure strokes, added a circle and a triangle, both flawless. Then he finished it off with a couple of symbols that he didn't need, but made the array more impressive to look at (even though in reality performing transmutations _without_ supporting symbols was more difficult than the other way around).

The whole process didn't last more than twenty seconds.

Roshan was now openly staring in shock.

Eager to make his jaw drop all the way to the floor, Ed pressed his palm to the edge of the array, raising his other hand above it as the circle lit up with blue light.

Slowly (much slower than he needed to, but it made a good show) a spear rose up from the floor, meeting Ed's waiting hand. He heard a gasp behind him, remembering the guards were watching too. Oh well.

When the transmutation was over, Ed twirled the spear in his hand. But keeping in mind there were guards present, and they might snap out of their shock any second and react to Edward suddenly holding a weapon in front of their Master (reminiscent of his performance in front of the Fuhrer when he was twelve), he grabbed it horizontally in front of himself.

Much to Edward's satisfaction, Roshan was indeed gaping at him.

"I told you," Ed tried not to sound too smug. "I am a genius."

Roshan finally snapped out of it, taking the spear into his hands. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes now - one that Ed was very familiar with.

It was the look of a man who was starting to realize the power Edward wielded, and the ways he could use that power to his advantage.

"Remarkable," he said in awe, examining the spear with growing fascination. "Not a single transmutation mark. Who taught you?"

"My teacher was Izumi Curtis… a hermit living in the Northern Mountains," Ed invented on the spot. Not like anyone could try to verify his story - he doubted any Xerxesians had ever _reached_ those mountains.

"A hermit?" Roshan was surprised. "You are not from Xerxes?"

"My father was - not that I ever knew him. I grew up in the West, but I've traveled to Xerxes recently to learn more about alchemy."

"Is that the reason why you wish to be my assistant?"

"Yes, but I hope that in time we can become partners," Ed improvised. Ambition was the iconic characteristic of any heartless bastard, right? "I know you have more experience than me, but I have dreams of my own - I'm sure you understand, Master Roshan."

In other words, _I know how good I am at what I do. If I am not satisfied with your support, I will find someone else - and you cannot afford to let me go._

"I think we can come to an agreement," said Roshan. "What is it that you dream of, Edward Elric?"

"To excel. To learn more about alchemy. To have the support to introduce my future findings to the whole Xerxes, for my inventions to be known for generations to come." _To be rich and influential_ didn't need to be said.

He was spewing complete bullcrap, but he hoped he sounded convincing. Judging by Roshan's expression, he was buying it. Sweet.

"Yes… I think we will work well together," Roshan grinned, his teeth glinting with a cold shine. "You are in luck, Edward Elric. My previous assistant had just left yesterday. Fortunately we managed to finish the project we were working on before his departure. Do you dabble in bio alchemy, perhaps?"

 _Yesterday_. Damn! Did Ed seriously miss the mark by just _one day?_

"Oh yes," he kept his voice light by pure force of will. "It's an area of great interest to me."

"I'll be happy to receive your input, if you're interested."

"I cannot wait, Master Roshan."

"Please, you may call me Roshan. We're going to be partners one day, aren't we?"

Ed was pretty sure Roshan was just buttering him up. No way he'd seriously promise something like that right off the bat. It was good, though. Better than he'd expected. "Very well. Thank you, Roshan. You may call me Edward."

"You are welcome, Edward. Now..."

Roshan pulled out his research materials - or rather some of them, Ed knew it couldn't be even the half of it - and quizzed him on Human Transmutation theory for a while, before starting a more equal-footing conversation once he was convinced Edward knew what he was talking about. Ed never thought he would find himself in this position, discussing the Taboo of alchemy as if it was an everyday topic.

Then again, Human Transmutation wasn't forbidden here in Xerxes, was it? It was open to debate, encouraged even, if what Roshan was saying was accurate. Ed had to work very hard not to show how progressively disturbed he was becoming, more than once swallowing his tongue to avoid saying too much: like mentioning the rebound, the toll, or the Gate.

It felt a bit like treading through a minefield - one wrong step, and things could blow up in his face. Roshan absolutely could not find out Ed had personal experience with Human Transmutation, because then he would realize Ed _knew_ what had happened to all of his other assistants. And then, Ed would become a greater liability than an asset.

Then again, it was becoming apparent that Roshan did not intend to use Ed the same way he had used his other assistants, as he was much more useful to him alive. And to keep Ed that way, Roshan had to keep him ignorant about the side-effects of Human Transmutation and discourage him from trying it on his own at the same time - that's why despite encouraging debate, he stated firmly it required a great deal of preparation to even attempt, far beyond Ed's current experience.

Yeah, right. Like _that_ would have stopped anyone desperate enough from trying. In Amestris it was the greatest Taboo and yet Ed had tried it anyway when he was eleven. Roshan was lucky he really had no intention of doing it ever again, or he could have lost yet _another_ assistant thanks to his own carelessness.

Not that Roshan would care. Obviously he was too pragmatic to care about such a _trivial_ thing as a human life.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached the topic of the Homunculus.

"...I'm positive the transmutation was a success, but it hasn't responded to any stimuli yet."

"The Homunculus? You actually created one?" Ed made sure to insert awed interest into his voice.

"Yes, this is the first one successful to date! It appears to be sleeping for now, however I'm certain it will awake in a short time. Unfortunately I will be busy all day tomorrow, but if you return the day after, you'll be welcome to observe its behaviour in person."

"Hmm…" Ed was surprised Roshan was willing to let him anywhere near his precious experiment. Then again, if he really was the power-hungry alchemist he was pretending to be, there wouldn't be any reason for him to pose any danger to the Homunculus - a priceless source of knowledge.

Two days. Ed really hoped nothing would go wrong in that time.

"Why did the other attempts fail, though?" Ed asked. "What was different this time?"

"Well, I used the blood of one of my slaves for the material instead of dead matter-"

Ed knew a perfect opening when he saw one, so he jumped right onto it.

"Perhaps there is something special about that particular slave's blood?"

"I do not believe so. He is just an ordinary boy."

"I've been experimenting with blood lately," Ed lied shamelessly. "I have a theory that every individual's blood has different properties, which might influence the outcome of overall transmutation. Would you mind selling me that slave? I was thinking about getting my own anyway. Unless of course," he added nonchalantly for reverse psychology "you have an attachment to that particular one, then I'd understand."

Roshan blinked in surprise. "Of course not. Are you sure? It is quite a big investment for just-"

"Like I said," Ed interrupted. "I was going to get myself one anyway. I'm sure he's strong enough to be useful to me." Even now, he couldn't quite force himself to use the word 'buy'.

"Hmm…" Roshan turned around and called out: "Nineteen?"

A young man appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Yes, Master?"

"Bring me Twenty Three, our guest is asking for him. Oh, and tell him to make himself presentable before he comes."

For a split-second a look of displeasure flashed across Nineteen's face, before it was replaced by a politely obedient expression. "Yes, Master."

"I understand you are new to Xerxes," Roshan told Ed with the air of a concerned mentor, as Nineteen left the room. "But really, you should always at least take a close look at your merchandise before you decide on a purchase, Edward. Believe me, it is a rule to live by. Someone could offer you something that is far from your best interest."

"Thanks for the advice," Ed replied, distracted. "I'll make sure to keep it in mind."

"There is still time to change your mind, of course. Twenty Three is quite young, not completely trained up yet, and although some may find the process enjoyable it might turn out to be very time-consuming, especially in more difficult cases..."

He wasn't listening anymore. Hohenheim was here. Hohenheim was _coming here_. For the first time in three weeks, Ed would see a familiar face again.

He never thought he'd become so desperate to be excited at the prospect of having Hohenheim for company. Man, he was so pathetic these days… Then again, your entire world ending, and then having the fate of the world resting on your shoulders in short succession can change a person's perspective a lot.

As they discussed the matter of payment, Ed steeled himself at Hohenheim's arrival. Would he have a beard already? Roshan said he was "quite young", so probably not… Did that mean he was currently _younger_ than Ed? It was hard to imagine - that would be so weird.

Would he be wearing glasses yet? No, after everything he heard today, he doubted anyone would bother to give a slave proper glasses… Oh no, did that mean Ed would have to get Hohenheim a pair? He wasn't going to send him off to Xing if the man couldn't even _see_ properly. Where the heck would Ed find an optometrist in Xerxes?!

 _Focus Ed,_ he reminded himself, crossing his legs and arms in a heedless manner, trying to hide his nervousness. _It's just Hohenheim. He doesn't even know you._

Why did that thought make him the tiniest bit sad?

At least ten minutes passed before a bowed figure entered the room.

"You called me, Master?"

"Ah, Twenty Three, you're here at last," said Roshan.

The figure lifted his head a bit, familiar golden eyes meeting Edward's.

Ed felt his heart stop for a second.

* * *

_An emaciated face, surrounded by white, slowly turned to face him, his eyes familiar and empty._

_Ed stared back in shock. He started running forward, reaching out desperately for the boy, but hands made of shadows grabbed him, forcibly pulling him back._

_"Al! Al, come on!" he screamed. "Please, hurry up!_ _**AAAAAAL!** _ _"_

_"I can't," the boy said in a weak voice. "I can only leave with my own soul… I'm sorry, I can't come with you."_

_Alphonse's body wore a sad, fragile smile._

* * *

Funny thing about family resemblance… Everyone always said Ed was the one who looked like Hohenheim - Al was the one who looked more like their mother. But, comparison is a matter of perspective. Out of the two of them, Ed might be the one to look more like their father, but it did not change the fact that Al, too, resembled him a lot.

They never had pictures of Hohenheim from his youth. They never had the chance to compare. But the fact was… they were both his sons, and _both of them looked almost exactly like him_. And now, before Edward stood a boy with messy blond hair, who was so similar to his late little brother it made his heart physically _ache_.

This was not the Hohenheim he knew. This was a boy who one day could have become that man, but wasn't like him at all.

It seriously threw Ed off balance for a second. Then, he remembered where he was.

_Focus. Channel Colonel Bastard._

"Great." Ed stood up and shot the other a condescending look. Then he used his best Mustang smirk. "You finally decided to show up."

The flash of defiance he saw in the boy's eyes gave him hope that, perhaps, things wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's Note:
> 
> OH MY GOSH, I HAVE A TV TROPES PAGE NOW! :'D
> 
> I never thought that was going to happen! My Master Ed now has its own page on TV Tropes! I can't believe it! And it's so beautiful! I am not worthyyyy! (tears flowing)
> 
> THANK YOU, WHOEVER DID MY TV TROPES PAGE! I AM MOST GRATEFUL! THE STORY OF YOUR ACT OF KINDNESS WILL BE PASSED DOWN MY FAMILY LINE FOR GENERATIONS!
> 
> Ehem... Pardon my enthusiasm. Anyway~
> 
> As you can see, no matter how delayed I get with my updates, I shall not abandon my stories. The show must go on!
> 
> Ed might not realize it, but almost everything he does in the past has an enormous impact. I mentioned already I'm not too good at politics, so I'll be leaving that mostly in the shadows for simplicity's sake, but I hope you're starting to get an idea of how things are in Xerxes right now, and how they might change in the future. Not every OC will get that much development, but believe me that whenever someone gets the spotlight - it's gonna be important later on.
> 
> Some of the chapter was recap, and I shamefully admit there is more to come - but I believe Ed's side of the story to be much more complex and plot-relevant than Van's, so I hope you don't mind some events repeating from earlier chapters. I don't know how much until we catch up with chapter 7, but I don't think it'll be longer than two chapters (because I need to have a bit dedicated to Dwarf in the Flask's POV, and that probably won't fit in the next one with the amount of plot I'll have to squeeze in it).
> 
> Is Ed still in-character despite the torture I've put him through? What are your thoughts on the characters I added? Was the romance too cheesy? Was is too serious? (If so, sorry about that.) Are the OCs boring? You decide!
> 
> Thank you everyone, please comment if you can, add to favorites and follow if you liked the story, but most importantly - read on and enjoy!
> 
> Love, Blue Teller


	11. A Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed meets and adopts- er, that is, invites Van to live with him. In his house. As roommates, of course. Because he is absolutely not emotionally invested in this arrangement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I'm re-uploading from my fanfiction account. The next chapter is going to be brand fresh and new! So I hope you stick around, because I've been working really hard on it! :)

Once upon a timeline...

 _"Young man...? Hey,_ _**you there!**_ _"_

_"Huh…? Oh, no!"_

_"It's alright!"_

...there was a small creature trapped in glass. A dwarf in a flask.

_"Look over here!"_

_"Um... Yeah?"_

_"Hey now, can't you at least bring yourself to be a little surprised or something?"_

_"What do I get for being surprised?"_

He was an artificial life-form, a Homunculus, created with the life force of an alchemist's assistant, from another man's blood – a young one, still an adolescent… and apparently he was a bold one, too.

_"Hmm, you show no fear. I like that. What's your name?"_

_"I'm number Twenty Three."_

_"Not your number! I want you to tell me your real name."_

_"I'm a slave. I don't have one."_

The creature originated from a Gate of Knowledge. So he knew many things, since the moment he came into existence. He knew the faces of his creators, as well as their ancestors seven generations back. Not their identities, however. The fact that his blood-giver was a slave, for instance, was quite a surprise.

 _"A_ _**slave** _ _? You mean a person without any rights or freedoms,  
someone trafficked and deed as a possession?"_

_"...Deeded? What's that?"_

_"It's when a piece of property is transferred to another person."_

He didn't like that fact. His only relative, a dumb slave? What did that say about **him**?

_"Seems you're not all that bright, are you..."_

_"Hey, get outta here!"_

_"How can I have possibly have been born from someone as_ _**stupid** __as you...?"_

Still, they were relatives by blood – family, the only one he had. Perhaps deep down, his blood-brother had hidden potential.

 _"You_ _**are**_ _the one who gave me blood, right?"_

_"...I guess so. He said he was going to use it for an experiment."_

_"I exist today, because you gave me your blood. ...Thank you."_

If he did, there was only one way to find out. He started with the first step of granting someone independence: giving them an identity.

_"Let's see... number Twenty Three isn't going to cut it.  
I think I'll give you a name of your own!"_

_"Give me a name? Who_ _**are** __you?"_

_"You want a noble sounding one, right?  
Let's see... Theo! Theophrastus Bombastus-"_

_"That's too long!"_

_"...Hm? Oh yeah, you're not that smart.  
Maybe we shouldn't put too many syllables in it."_

_"Hey, you! I'm plenty smart!"_

_"Well, how about Van? Van Hohenheim. How does that sound?"_

He named the young man after a scientist of old, a name that promised fame and success.

_"So Van Hohenheim, huh...? I think I can remember that."_

_"It's spelled... oh. You don't know how to read and write, do you."_

_"I don't need to read and write to do my work!"_

_"...Your_ _**slave** _ _work."_

If only he could guide his naive mind towards ambition...

_"Don't you even want **freedom**?  
Are you going to live out the rest of your life as a slave without the rights of a real person?"_

Then, perhaps, it would open a window of opportunity for himself as well.

 _"In that case you're no different than me, trapped within this stuffy flask.  
_ _**Let me teach you, Van Hohenheim.** _ _"_

The young man learned fast and eagerly, proving himself beyond expectations. Soon, even his Master started to notice him.

_"All things are made from One, and in the end, All things return to One."_

_"In other words, One is All."_

_"Indeed, and All is One, as well."_

_"All is ultimately of the One, so if what follows is not included in the One, then All is nothing."_

_"You have passed. You are now an alchemist Hohenheim, well done child."_

_"I'm still only fit to be an assistant. My skill is nothing near yours, Master."_

But even as time passed, at his core, the youth remained surprisingly humble. Kind, even.

_"I'm grateful to you."_

_"Oh? For what?"_

_"I live as well as I do now because of the knowledge you gave me.  
And, I've also earned Master's respect..."_

It was a strange thing, for a slave, to remain so innocent and undamaged in such a cruel world.

_"Thanks to you, maybe someday…  
I'll even be able to get married and have a family!"_

_"...A_ _**family**_ _, huh?"_

But no one, not even Hohenheim... would consider **him** to be an equal. But then, how _could_ they? After all, the Homunculus wasn't human.

(He was not bitter. And he certainly wasn't envious. Surely not.)

For all of their friendship and the blood connection between them, the youth still did not count him as family, because of what he was. Weak. Trapped. Insignificant.

Then again, so were all humans, apparently.

 _"How_ _**inconvenient** __for you humans.  
Unless you form communities and_ _breed_ _, your species can't continue to exist."_

 _"Don't call it 'breeding'!  
Whether or not that's a concept you're able to understand,  
that's how humans find happiness.  
We live for the bonds we form with friends and family members.  
It's_ _**who** __**we humans are.**_ _"_

He didn't _need_ family anyway. So what if he couldn't share the same dream?

(No bitterness at all, only hard logic. He was a _logical_ creature, emotions did not rule him.)

_"Sure, whatever you say."_

_"Okay then, what is it that makes_ _**you** __happy?"_

What would make him happy, indeed?

He wasn't sure, but he knew one thing: no being bereft of freedom can be satisfied with their life. Not even knowledge of countless wonders that the Homunculus possessed could ever make up for how limited he felt, imprisoned behind the glass.

 _"_ _Well, I_ _'_ _d hate to be guilty of asking too much…  
But I think I_ _'_ _d be happy if only I could just leave this flask…_ _"_

But the reason the Dwarf in the Flask had been created in the first place was because of his knowledge. His origins allowed him to know things beyond this world; things no man had ever discovered. He was a literal gateway to enlightenment beyond humankind's understanding.

_"_ _His Majesty is expecting you_ _."_

The Homunculus possessed a wealth of priceless information…

_"Immortality? Why would someone  
who already has so much power and prosperity need such a thing?"_

...among which, a way to extend one's life through sacrificing others.

 _"Enough chatter. Immortality. Tell me,_ _**is**_ _it possible, o_ _r isn't it?_ _"_

So when Kyros, the King of Xerxes, a selfish man who feared death a great deal, asked the Homunculus whether immortality was possible... the creature saw his long awaited window of opportunity.

_"_ _Okay, I will tell you how to achieve immortality._ _"_

Then an idea occurred.

_"But... I have a request, if I may."_

The Dwarf in the Flask felt kinship with Hohenheim. How could he not, with how parallel their fates were? How both of them were trapped by circumstances beyond their control?

_"What is it?"_

_"I wish to participate in the ritual when you perform it,  
along with a friend of mine."_

The Homunculus **wanted** to share his victory with Hohenheim – a victory which could only be achieved with his help. The youth might not acknowledge their blood relation the same way he did, but it still meant something to him. The Dwarf in the Flask owed him a debt for his existence.

_"That is a very bold request!"_

_"But if I were not to participate, I would_ _ **perish** __because of it!  
Surely you understand why I wish to partake in it?  
And someone needs to carry my flask, right?  
_ _I_ _f my friend and I stand at the edge of the circle,  
we won't gain nearly as much power as **you** , Your Majesty._  
 _It will merely extend our lives beyond that of an average human's.  
That way we all get what we want: Equivalent Exchange."_

Using his silver tongue he deceived them all, tricking them to let him be present alongside Hohenheim during the transmutation. King Kyros agreed, under the condition that Hohenheim would be kept in the dark about it. The Homunculus played along. After all, when it was over... It's not like any of the King's orders would matter any longer.

_"The true center of the transmutation circle is right there, where you're standing!"_

_"...It is?"_

_"Surely, you know that your blood is within me! I used it to open the doorway.  
Blood Brother of mine, Van Hohenheim…  
You and I, are in_ _**the center of everything!**_ _"_

He had thought that after the initial shock, Hohenheim would be grateful. It was for their mutual benefit. Surely, he would eventually understand.

 _"What's going on here? What is this?!_ _ **What have you done?!** _ _"_

...He'd thought wrong.

_"To thank you for your blood, I've given you a name, and I've given you knowledge.  
And now, I've given you a body that would live forever."_

Hohenheim wasn't happy nor thankful. Instead, he was horrified beyond description.

The Homunculus should have seen it coming really – the man had always been softhearted. Van Hohenheim cursed his plan, his gift and _him_ , then immediately abandoned Xerxes. The initial reaction itself wasn't _all_ unexpected. However… his blood-brother's rejection still hurt.

The broken scream that came from the former slave's lips would echo in his memories for many years to come.

(What more did he need? He'd given him **everything**. Why was nothing he did ever **enough**?)

Perhaps, Hohenheim simply needed time to adjust. So when the man fled to the East the Homunculus did nothing to stop him, heading in the opposite direction. Maybe one day, the other would see his way and join him.

It was lonely, without Hohenheim. But, who needed _humans_ anyway? They were **weak** , **flawed** , **pathetic** creatures. The only use they had was being a source of energy.

He would create his own family. One that would never leave him.

No rejection would hurt him ever again.

(Greed's desertion – while an unforeseen development – did not hurt. After all, he had moved past all human weaknesses, purged himself clean of such imperfections.)

However, in the end…

 _"_ _**You're incapable of believing in yourself.** _ _"_

...Even God rejected him.

...

_But then..._

**_The timeline shifted._ **

* * *

"好种出好苗，好树结好桃。" Ava said softly upon entering, taking down her hood. "晚上好, Mr. Meng."

Zemin Meng grinned at her in his usual unsettling way, and she suppressed a groan. Although the Xingnese man was a... friend, of sorts, she definitely didn't like making deals with him. The payment he demanded for his services was an absolute nightmare. But, if nothing else, she knew she could trust him to be discreet. Cat Ears specialized in confidentiality.

"Hello there, miss Ava! It's been such a long time!" Zemin bowed at her theatrically, kissing her hand. "What do I owe the pleasure?" He eyed her wooden necklace with a smirk. "Finally looking into your little trinket, perhaps?"

Ava quickly retraced her hand and used it to cover her neck. "Not yet. But… Maybe later."

Zemin blinked at her, for once visibly taken aback. "Huh."

"What?" she asked defensively.

"You've been refusing my offer for nearly five years, darling. What changed?"

She looked away with a blush. "Mas- Eiliar... insists on giving me a wedding present, but I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Well I'll be damned!" the Xingnese exclaimed in delight. "At last, you snagged the man of your dreams, didn't you!"

"I didn't _snag_ him," she said, affronted.

"Oh, but you _did_ , you lovely desert flower!" Zemin cackled. "I knew this day would come! Oh, what a wonderful turn of events! A slave girl and a nobleman, falling in love! It's just like the folk tale! Have I told you that story yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Meng," Ava sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "You have. _So many times._ "

"Aw, but what's one more?" the obnoxious man flirted, putting an arm around her shoulders. At least, she took comfort in the knowledge that he was never serious. He was married – and quite happily, in fact. Didn't stop him from charming every girl that wandered into his tavern, though. "What do you say, darling, you and me, and a bottle of sake in front of the fireplace?"

"As pleasant as that sounds," she replied gracefully, well aware that Zemin's favorite drink tasted like vomit "I'm here on business, Mr. Meng."

Zemin, sensing the weight of her tone, immediately grew serious. His slanted eyes narrowed in focus, similar to those of a predator.

"Go on."

"There was another assassination attempt."

"Considering your wedding plans, I don't believe it was successful."

"It almost was!" she snapped, distressed. "They attacked him at a _cemetery_! When he was visiting his **father** **'** **s grave**!"

Zemin whistled lowly. "Is that not, like, a major taboo for you Xerxesians?"

"Exactly my point," said Ava, running her fingers through her bangs. "I know assassins don't have any honor, it only makes sense. But desecrating the burial ground? No sane citizen of Xerxes would dare to try such a thing."

"So what you're thinking..." Zemin rubbed his chin. "...is that the assassin was a foreigner?"

"They have to be," she insisted. "Ishvalans obey the same customs regarding burial grounds as we do. Westerners and northerners rarely visit Xerxes and they're never subtle. That leaves..."

"A Xingnese assassin," the man breathed out, impressed. "They're not pulling any punches, are they?"

"You know as well as I do that hiring someone like that would cost a fortune. It confirms our suspicions – that whoever wants... Eiliar dead is very wealthy. Definitely a noble, very likely a member in the royal court."

The Xingnese leaned on the wall, looking at the ceiling. "That doesn't quite narrow it down, darling. Considering who your lover boy is, there are a lot of courtiers who'd rather see him dead."

"Enough to spend a small mountain of gold on a Xingnese assassin?" Ava raised her eyebrow in disbelief.

Zemin hummed. "Good point."

"It has to be someone who has vested interest in having Eiliar out of the picture. Someone close to the King."

The man stops looking at the ceiling, turning back to the girl. "I know you won't like this, but-"

"No." She interrupted.

"Ava..."

"Lord Rayan would _never_."

"Men can be deceiving, darling."

"Not him." She stated with conviction. "I refuse to even consider it."

Zemin sighed tiredly. "One of these days, that stubborn trust of yours will get you in trouble, miss Ava."

"I know I'm not wrong," she simply replied.

He just shrugged.

"Very well. Now," he smiled his shrewd grin. "What job do you have for me?"

Ava opened her mouth, about to speak of the miracle worker who saved her beloved, but at the last second restrained herself, remembering what Eiliar told her.

_I do not believe he wishes to be found._

So instead, she said: "Investigate the royal court. Find out if the assassination attempts are related to King's search for immortality."

"Immortality, eh? Wouldn't that be something."

"It's insanity," Ava said flatly. "Those who seek it will have their own hubris become their downfall."

Zemin raised his hands defensively. "It's nice to dream..."

"I'd rather peacefully pass to Garothman young, than spend an eternity aimlessly in this world." Ava responded passionately. "It should be obvious that even if such thing existed, it would be much more a curse than a blessing. Such fate sounds worse than being condemned to Duzakh-"

"Don't get all philosophical with me, I swear I was joking!" Zemin begged, and Ava was almost tempted to continue the topic, just to watch the man squirm. If there was anything he couldn't stand, it was existential talk. It was almost funny how easy it was to unbalance the conniving man with the topic.

"In any case," Ava mercifully continued "The assassination attempts started right after the King officially began looking for immortality. I doubt that's a coincidence."

"I agree." Zemin nodded. "I just can't see the connection yet. But if there is one, I will find it." Then the man returned to his usual sneaky, cheerful, flirty self. "Now, miss Ava, about the payment…"

Ava couldn't hold in her exasperated groan this time. This was going to be a long evening.

* * *

This was awkward.

It was the main thought in Ed's head as he and Hohenheim walked out of Roshan's mansion side by side.

Operation Hohenheim has been successful. Edward did it. He managed to get him out of the Homunculus' reach before they met – there was no way history would repeat itself now, not as before.

It made him strangely hollow inside. He knew why, but he didn't want to think about it – not now, not in front of Hohenheim.

Hohenheim, who was bright-eyed, freakishly young and following him like a puppy without a complaint. Why wasn't he talking? Why wasn't he asking questions? Edward came out of nowhere and uprooted his entire life in an hour, and he was just… taking it?

Like… what the hell?

Ed knew there was a lot he didn't understand where it came to slavery in Xerxes. Treating people like objects alone was such a foreign concept, that even though rationally he _knew_ those people didn't have rights, that they could be beaten and insulted by bystanders at any moment and it was regarded as normal… he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Because, how could you just _do that_? Did Xerxesians look at slaves and saw pieces of furniture instead of humans? Though honestly, most would treat furniture with more respect than that. Ed just… didn't understand that way of thinking at all.

Messed up as Amestris was, there was one undeniably good thing about it – slavery had been outlawed since its foundation. Now that Ed thought about it, it probably wasn't a coincidence, either. The Homunculus might have been an egotistical monster, but considering his origins, slavery probably rang a sour note for him. It was an unexpected revelation.

Anyway, Ed was currently in an uncomfortable situation for a multitude of reasons. For one, Hohenheim was – even though Edward didn't like that fact – his father. His father, who was about the same age as him. He didn't have a beard, or his glasses, instead he had a _baby face_. And if that wasn't freaky enough, he looked like a replica of Alphonse. That is, what Al would have looked like at that age, if his body was healthy. The image of Al's emaciated face was seared into his brain. The resemblance… Ed would have called it uncanny, but it made sense. Unfortunately, Ed had no idea how to deal with it.

And now, seeing as Hohenheim clearly wasn't going to start a conversation, the responsibility fell on him. Wonderful.

What could he even _say_? Ed imagined telling him:

 _H_ _ello, I'm your son from the future. No, a_ _**really**_ _distant future._ _From t_ _wentieth century,_ _to be exact_ _. How did you live that long? Oh, an artificial life-form created from your blood used you in an alchemical transmutation, killing all of Xerxes and making you immortal. And then it destroyed another country four centuries later. It was my home. I'm homeless now. But I do have a house._ _I bought it last week with the gold I forged_ _._ _Hey, you wanna move in with me?_

...yeah, how about **no**.

"So… 'Twenty Three', huh?" Ed said tentatively.

"Yes, Master?"

Edward's stomach lurched, a sour flavor filling his mouth. Those were _not_ the first words he wanted to hear. He grimaced in disgust.

"Don't call me 'Master'. Don't you ever call me that again." No matter how many grievances he had with his father, he was _never_ going to play that game.

Hohenheim's expression turned nervous, and Ed felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn't lash out on the teen, when he did nothing wrong. He had no way of knowing why his words affected Ed so much.

"Forgive me, Ma-" Hohenheim stuttered, his head subconsciously bowing. "-um… sir. What should I call you, sir?"

The image of the old woman from earlier popped into his mind, and he wondered: did Hohenheim expect to be punished for disrespect?

Well, time to break some customs. The Fullmetal Alchemist was nothing if not good at breaking things down.

"Call me Ed." Ed said, deliberately casual. Then he closed eyes in contemplation with a hum, considering. To make the ground between them truly equal, Hohenheim needed a name that wasn't dehumanizing. "'Twenty Three'… that sucks. Who do you want to be?"

Because the name 'Van Hohenheim' originally came from the Homunculus. So, Ed wasn't sure if it was the name he should carry this time around. If there was any other name he preferred, he should have the freedom to choose something else, with everything else decided for him in his life.

"Is there a name you always wanted to have?"

Hohenheim's face was equivalent of a question mark.

"I don't have a name," he said, befuddled.

"I know that!" Had they not established that already? "That's why I'm asking you."

"I… I don't understand, Mas- sir."

...They were getting **nowhere** with this conversation.

"Dammit, my father's a _simpleton_ ," Ed groaned to himself in Amestrian, covering his face with a hand. "You really are hopeless, aren't you?" he switched back to Xerxesian. Hohenheim apparently did not have one creative bone in his body. He really should have seen that coming.

Then again, creativity was not likely to be encouraged among slaves. Too big of a risk of them getting ideas about self-worth or whatever.

Ed probably should have been patient, and let Hohenheim come up with his own name in his own time. However, he was **not** that patient. It left to it by himself, it would probably take months. And Edward _refused_ to call him by his slave number.

"I guess that leaves us with one option, then. 'Van Hohenheim'. Is that good enough for you?"

Because Ed had to be honest with himself – he was going to slip up sooner or later, and call him Hohenheim anyway. There was no point in picking anything else.

Hohenheim stared at Edward with utter confusion.

"I asked you, do you like that name?"

The other teen fell silent for a long moment. Then finally, he asked with even more confusion:

"...What?"

Did he even understand what Ed was saying? Was his Xerxesian that bad or something?

"'Van Hohenheim', do you like the name?" Ed repeated slowly, at the end of his rope. "Man, you are such an idiot."

It just slipped out in annoyance, but the results were _magical_.

Hohenheim's expression changed from dim to _defiant_ , only a spark but it was undeniably fierce. The same glimpse of a fiery, stubborn personality he had seen back in Roshan's office.

Ed accidentally stumbled across Hohenheim's trigger. He was _delighted_.

"What?" He smirked, provocative. "Aren't you going to talk back at me, Hohenheim?"

Then the confusion returned, much to Ed's dismay. "That's… _my_ name?"

"Yes!" Ed stopped in the middle of the road, throwing his hands in the air. How was he supposed to phrase it for him to get it? "I've been saying that for ten minutes now! _Truth_ , you're so stupid it's frustrating!"

"Me? Stupid?!"

Yes! They were finally getting somewhere!

"Yes you!" Ed childishly poked him. "You're slow and a complete moron!"

Hohenheim's face reddened and he pushed the hand away. "Why, you little…!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THERE AREN'T ANY CLOTHES HIS SIZE IN THE WHOLE COUNTRY?!" The angry words flowed out of Eds mouth before he could stop himself. He wasn't supposed to lash out, dammit!

But luckily instead of Hohenheim getting scared, it fired him up.

"I'm not stupid! And you're such a brat!" he shouted, then immediately withdrew, but it was enough. Ed smiled in relief.

"Good job, Hohenheim."

"What did I do, sir?" Poor Hohenheim clearly had no idea why he was pleased.

"You finally stopped acting like a pushover," Ed explained happily.

Hohenheim wasn't completely brainwashed. There was potential for him to become a freely thinking, independent individual. It would probably take time to free himself of all the mental chains, but it was there. All he needed was a chance to let those seeds grow.

He became somber at the thought. He was probably the worst possible person to give guidance, especially for something like that. Edward had been free his entire life – even his service as the dog of the military had been voluntary, and the government never owned his mind, body or soul. He had no real understanding of what Van Hohenheim had been through. Still… he had to try.

Al would never… forgive him if he didn't at least _try_.

(He managed to consciously think about Alphonse, without his mind flashing back to _that_ , for the first time.)

He took a deep breath.

"Listen. I know you've been a slave your whole life. I get that, and I'm sorry. That must have been hard. But you're a free man now. I don't want you to act like a slave anymore, alright? Just… be yourself around me. Like you were just now. And stop calling me 'sir'. I told you my name is Ed."

Van Hohenheim didn't respond. His eyes were wide in shock.

"I guess you need time for this to sink in." Tentatively, he put his hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Hohenheim. You want to get some food? I'm starving."

So overall, his first conversation with the teenage version of his father was… successful? Maybe?

Ed lead Hohenheim to the market, the latter too absorbed by his thoughts to pay attention to where they were going. Finally, the alchemist spotted a food vendor. The middle-aged woman had a huge cauldron with what resembled a stew, but the smell was a little different than what he was used to – was there a hint of mint in it? Either way, Ed was intrigued.

Hohenheim nearly bumped into him as he stopped.

"What's that?" Ed asked, pointing at the cauldron.

"That's pomegranate soup."

"Is it good?"

Hohenheim didn't respond, probably still too out of it to focus. Ed mentally shrugged and decided to give it a try.

They ordered two bowls and it was all fine, until the woman said:

"...And here's one for your brother."

Edward froze, the implication of those words slamming into him with the force of a train.

_She thinks Hohenheim's my brother._

_Everyone will think he's my brother._

_Because he looks like you._

_Because he looks like Alphonse._

_Because **Alphonse is gone.**_

Ed opened his mouth to explain that no, Hohenheim wasn't his brother, them looking alike was merely a coincidence. But the words wouldn't come. He was physically unable to deny them being related.

Why?

"What's the matter, dear boy?" the vendor asked with concern.

He looked at Hohenheim, who was looking at him with a strangely fearful expression.

_Why can't you deny it...?_

_Because he's your father? That means nothing now._

_Because you're lonely? Are you that desperate to keep any relative you have left?_

_Because you're so selfish that you want to hold onto him, even if he wants nothing to do with you?_

… _.Are you trying to **replac** **e** **Al?**_

Ed had to close his eyes and shake his head in denial. No. He would never replace Al. No one could replace his little brother. No one.

But… he was that desperate. And selfish. He was finally ready to admit it to himself.

He wanted for Hohenheim to stay, because he was alone. It had been only three weeks in the past, and yet he was already falling apart.

"Nothing, I'm fine. How- how much?" Eventually he managed to speak. He was sure the others noticed his loss of composure, but they were polite enough not to comment.

Ed paid for the food, thanked the vendor and went to sit down, hiding his face behind his bangs. No way he was going to cry. Not in public, and especially not in front of Hohenheim. He had embarrassed himself enough. The others must think he's crazy, freaking out like that for no reason. Slowly, he put himself together, pushing back all those unwanted thoughts and feelings back into his nightmare box, where they belonged.

Sensing Hohenheim's stare, he looked up. The other was just sitting there, stiff like a board, holding his bowl awkwardly as if he didn't know what it was for.

"Why aren't you eating?"

Hohenheim stared blankly at the question, as if Ed was the one acting like a weirdo.

"This is for _me_ _?_ " the teen asked in disbelief.

Ed had to smack him for that. Honestly!

"Well, duh! Why do you think I asked for _two_ bowls?" He snorted. "Come on, you don't think I'm that big of a jerk to eat in front of you and leave you empty handed, do you?"

Hohenheim looked at his bowl with an uncertain look. Ed had no clue what he was thinking.

"What? You don't like it? You could have told me before, you know, then I would have gotten you something else!"

"No, I..." He said slowly, like he wasn't sure if Ed was being serious. "...I just… I've never had pomegranate soup before."

Ed raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" He eyed the bowl carefully. It was just a soup, right? "It wasn't that expensive."

Hohenheim pressed and rubbed two fingers against his temple, making Ed wonder if perhaps he missed something important.

"Slaves don't have their own money."

Ed stopped, suddenly realizing what that simple statement meant.

"Oh."

Just a soup. For Edward, it was just a soup. A warm meal, with meat and vegetables in it. But to a slave? Someone who had no agency of his own, no choice in his life, someone dependent on his master for everything from clothes on his back to the food in his stomach? It was unattainable, something he would never get in his entire life, even if he worked hard every day.

Ed really had no idea what it was like for Hohenheim, did he? In comparison, he was born in luxury. Even during the Civil War, he was never hungry, Granny cooking delicious food for him and Al every day. As a State Alchemist, he had more money that he needed, and bought whatever food he desired freely. When he was on the run from the government alongside Greed and the Chimeras, they figured it out as they went, and even if the food wasn't of the best quality at times, it was still seasoned and warm and satisfied the stomach.

Edward knew true hunger, of course – Teacher's trial on the island would never fade from his memory. But still, it was only one month. The island wasn't bare either. He and Al ate whatever they could get their hands on, and once they figured out how to make traps, it wasn't all that bad. Living like this – no, living worse than that, Hohenheim probably ate the same thing for every meal, every day of his life. And although he didn't look starved… he was still rather thin, wasn't he? He had some muscles, no doubt from working hard all the time, but he should have more, right? And didn't his hair look sort of dull and weathered? He was clearly missing some nutrients in his diet.

Well, Ed nodded to himself decisively, he was going to change that. Three good meals a day, fresh vegetables, and lots of protein. He was no doctor, but he heard enough lectures from Granny and Winry to have a general idea of a healthy diet. It meant changing his own eating schedule (or lack thereof) but it was something he could do.

Al probably would have been pleased. And super smug.

With that surprisingly optimistic thought, Ed dug into his meal.

"Mmmm!"

It was different from stew, but it was still pretty good. Unlike Amestrian cuisine there was little salt in it, making the dish nearly sweet in result. The mint gave it an exotic taste, but it fit well with the other spices. Once he was finished, he exchanged a smile with his companion, strangely content for the first time since arriving in the past.

It was the flavor of a new beginning.

"Um, Ma- uh, I mean, si- uuuh..." Hohenheim sighed in embarrassment. Ed snickered. The other reminded him of Black Hayate on ice, helplessly flailing around, only in verbal form. "I… want to thank you. For… for the meal and… Can I ask..." he trailed off.

"What?" Ed prompted, curious to hear what Hohenheim's first question would be.

Who are you? What do you want from me? Why do we look so alike that people think we're brothers?

"Can I ask you… why?"

A valid choice, if a little vague.

"Why what?"

Hohenheim waved his hand in an indeterminate gesture. "Why did you… do this." He finished awkwardly. "I just don't understand. Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

Ed looked away, smiling in relief. Hohenheim had absolutely no idea. Then again, time travel wasn't exactly the first thing that would come to mind.

Still, the alchemist decided to tell him the truth – or at least a piece of it.

"Because you're important… Hohenheim."

And he was. This man couldn't even begin to imagine his importance. He was literally the proverbial nail, for want of which the kingdom was lost. Ed was simply making sure the nail wouldn't fail this time around.

But just as he said the name, he realized how strange it sounded in his mouth.

"You know..." Ed glanced at the other with a frown. "Calling you that is sort of weird."

Hohenheim was the name that belonged to the Western Sage. A name for an immortal who lived four hundred years, who called himself a monster, his eyes solemn and weighted by the horrors of the past. A name of a man Edward once despised for abandoning his family, then slowly began to understand. The name still had a lot of baggage for Ed, whom it still rubbed the wrong way, no matter how much he told himself that he was over it.

The teen in front of him had innocent eyes, a soft face, an awkwardly naive air around him, and a soul fresh and clean as a daisy. This wasn't _that_ Van Hohenheim. He would never do or experience the things he did in Ed's timeline.

"How about I call you 'Van'." Ed decided on a whim. "It suits you better, I think. Almost like a nickname. 'Hohenheim' makes it sound like you're an old man, and you're just a kid."

Just like Ed hoped, the last comment visibly ticked him off.

"Got a problem, Van?"

"No," the annoyed grumble made Ed smirk in satisfaction. He had such obvious buttons, it was rather fun to push them. He was starting to understand the appeal of teasing someone so easily, like Mustang always did to him in the office.

 _Dear God. I'm turning into Colonel Bastard,_ Ed realized in horror. _Abort, abort!_

"So, Van," Ed quickly changed the subject, putting his chin on his automail fist. The name felt much better on the tongue. Fresh and new, untainted by bitter memories. "What are you planning to do now?"

"Huh?"

"You are free now, remember? You can go wherever you like. What are you going to do with that?"

Ed wasn't going to force him to stay. If he wanted to leave, he was free to do so. He would be okay with that. He _would_.

(He wouldn't.)

"I… I don't know..." Van replied, hesitant.

"Well, there are three things you could do." Ed had to make it clear that he had **options**. He couldn't just trick him into staying with him. "First. You travel east to Xing and look there for a better life."

Van looked so lost. No wonder – a country so huge and far away, even Ed had no idea what Xing was like. But it was the only one he could recommend, since Drachma territory was nothing but a frozen wasteland, current Amestris was apparently a bunch of forests with bandits running around, and did Ishval even _exist_ yet? He regretted he wasn't better at history.

"Second. You stay in Xerxes and find a job here."

The teen bit his lip, a slightly distraught look on his face. Yeeeah, Ed knew from experience how easy **that** was, for someone their age.

"Or third. You come with me."

"Come with _you_?" Hohenheim stared at him in shock.

"I'm not going to force you," Ed said carefully. Was it the good or the bad kind of shock? He couldn't tell. "You just met me and have no idea who I am. But if you come with me, I can promise you will be safe and have a place to stay. And I could come up with a thing or two for you to do, in case you don't find a job."

Now that he was hired as Roshan's assistant, he would have a stable income. He could support one more person, no trouble. Besides, he had a feeling Van wouldn't be the kind of roommate to spend a lot of money.

"Why set me free, if you want me to work for you?" Van asked suspiciously.

"I don't know, company, maybe?" It was true, but Van clearly wasn't buying it. Ed sent him a mischievous grin. "Well, that's for me to know and for you to think about."

Because slavery was a horrendous practice and it disturbed him to his very bones, he wanted to say, but he knew such an answer would not be accepted easily. For Van, slavery was the norm.

"What is it with you? What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

Besides, that answer wouldn't address the core of his suspicion: the inability to understand that some people weren't jerks, and didn't need a have a reason or gain to help someone.

"What, am I not allowed to be nice to people?" he asked in mock surprise.

"'Nice'?!" Van repeated incredulously, waving his hands chaotically. "Spending a talent of gold for a slave and freeing him the same day for _no_ reason? That's not being 'nice', that's _insane_."

He looked so utterly thrown off by this conversation, as if the foundation of his world was turned upside down. His hair was in disarray. There was some soup splashed on the side of his face. It was completely undignified. And suddenly, Ed imagined this unhinged expression on his old man, his bangs messy, beard all ruffled and glasses skewed on his nose. He had never seen him like that, not even after he punched him in the face.

And that overlap of images, that hilarious contrast combined with the fact that Van looked a lot like a disgruntled chick denied birdseed… it made him howl with laughter.

"Hey!" Van puffed up, indignant. It made Ed laugh even harder. "Stop that!"

"Sorry, Van, it's just… your face was so priceless!" Ed giggled, his stomach starting to hurt. "Wow, I had no idea messing with you would be this fun!" It took him a while to calm down. "Aaah, that was so good. I haven't had a good laugh in…"

He trailed off, when he realized he _didn't_ remember the last time he laughed. Was it weeks ago? Months? Or taking time travel into account, centuries?

He didn't know. It was kind of sad.

"...a while. Thanks Van."

"You're welcome," Van answered sarcastically.

They were getting along pretty well, huh?

They brought the empty bowls back to the vendor, and much to Ed's confusion, the woman apologized. For what? For assuming they were related?

Why the heck would she apologize for that?

"It was a natural assumption. We're around the same age and look a bit similar. You don't have to apologize just because you thought he was my brother."

They were obviously related. It was the freaking truth. It was impossible to hide.

The woman regarded him with a gentle smile. "What's your name, dear boy?"

"I'm Ed."

"You are an amazing young man, Ed. I hope more people of your generation grow up to be as selfless as you are."

For some reason, the compliment made him blush. What was up with old ladies recently, being so nice to him? They were supposed to be scary, like Granny or Teacher. Ed couldn't handle that much sincerity.

He left the market as fast as he could without looking like he's running away, but he had a feeling Van noticed how flustered he was. Dammit.

"So," Ed said, hoping to distract him. "What's your decision?"

Van Hohenheim contemplated for a moment.

"I really don't understand why you're doing this," he started. "But… I guess I'll go with you. I don't want to leave Xerxes. And finding a job on my own would be very hard, I'd be better off as a slave. I don't have anywhere else to go."

...Was that it? Was it really that simple? Well, Ed wasn't about to complain.

(Pretending that he _didn't_ feel like a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders was too easy.)

"Alright! Let's get going then."

"Where?"

"To my house, doofus. It's really unbelievable how thick-headed you are."

Predictably, Van glowered at him. Ed had a feeling he would have a lot of fun in his company.

"That's not true! I'm plenty smart!" he protested. Then he smirked in a suspicious way. Oh _no_ , he was _not_ going to… "And a lot taller than you, kid!"

...he _**did**_.

"Are you implying that I'm _short_?"

"Short? Please," Hohenheim scoffed, asking for it. "That's way too generous. You barely qualify as a midget."

Oh, it was _**on**_.

* * *

Beside that… _incident_ … the walk back to Ed's house was peaceful. Unfortunately, Van's first question about it made his mood plummet.

"Your family lives here?"

How the hell do you respond to that?

"I don't have family anymore."

"But you're a kid, aren't you? Surely you have someone to take care of you?"

A kid, right. A kid who lost both his parents by the time he was six, who committed a taboo when he was eleven, joined the military when he was twelve, and fought against immortal monsters when he was sixteen. He was as far away from a child as you could get.

"No, I do not. It is just me."

"Um..."

Ed sighed deeply. He was so not in the mood for this topic, but...

"You're going to ask sooner or later, so I might as well tell you now."

In short, barren of detail sentences, he described how he was an immigrant had no relatives left.

"And your father?"

His hands automatically turned into fists. Instantly, he was filled with familiar resentment.

"He left."

"I'm sorry."

" _Sure_ you are!" Ed snapped, and immediately regretted it. What right did he have to lash out with frustration? Especially, considering… "Sorry, Van. I shouldn't be taking this out on you. I just… really don't like talking about it. It's… It's complicated."

Once Ed got over himself and his stupid issues, he invited Van inside. He told him the story of how he bought the house, and the hilarious reaction the owners had to seeing a cart of gold on their doorstep. Which of course, led Ed to explaining _how_ he came to possess a cart of gold. Last thing he wanted was to appear to Van as some sort of pompous, _spendthrift_ snob.

He pulled a pebble out of his pocket – he always had one on him these days, in case he suddenly needed cash. The reason he didn't carry already-transmuted gold around was because of pickpockets, since that Zerang kid wasn't the only one he stumbled across. Losing gold coins was a lot more problematic than losing pebbles, no matter if he could produce gold on the spot. Ed didn't forget his ever-growing debt to the economy.

Still, Van was going to be living with him now, and he deserved to know where the heck Ed got the funds to… get… a slave, since it wasn't exactly cheap. So, a demonstration was in order.

As it was proper for an exchange of knowledge, Ed asked what he knew about alchemy. Honestly, he was intrigued. Van had been living with allegedly the best alchemist in Xerxes for years. He wouldn't be surprised if he was a well of information for lost ancient practices.

However, Ed quickly became disillusioned.

"My previous Master is a royal alchemist, but I haven't seen him work. I only cleaned his laboratory… and..." Self-consciously, he touched the bandage on his arm. "...he took some of my blood recently for an experiment, but I don't know anything about it."

The gesture made an unidentified, dark feeling burn in Edward. Doing his best to ignore the strange feeling – anger? He wasn't even sure – he reached for Van's arm, unwrapped the wound and examined it. It was deep and merciless, most certainly done without any anesthesia, and it wasn't even stitched. At least that sorry excuse of an alchemist had _somewhat_ known what he was doing, because bleeding to death should be the last of Hohenheim's worries. Ed doubted Van had been given a break afterwards. Which meant he was given **dirty** work to do, with an injured arm. It was a miracle the wound wasn't infected. With the current state of Xerxesian medicine, combined with Van's status as a slave, it would have killed him. Not that Roshan apparently cared.

Roshan did that to him. Roshan _did that_ to Van.

Once he was done with him, Ed was going to **kill** that bastard.

"That's disgusting. I already knew about it, sure, but to actually see it… That's so sick. Did it hurt?" Ed asked a little foolishly. _Of course it hurt, moron, his arm was sliced open and drained of blood!_

"A little. It wasn't too bad. It stung for a while, but it feels alright, now that I had it cleaned and all."

Oh, so at least they _cleaned it_. So Van probably wasn't going to die from infection. That was a relief.

Ed explained then that normal alchemy didn't require human blood. That was just so wrong. No alchemist should do that. Humans should never be treated as experiments, slave or not.

For some reason, it made Van even more nervous.

"Don't look so scared, Van. I just told you I'm not going to hurt you." Did he think Ed was lying, or what? He wondered just what was going on in the other's head.

It turned out, Van didn't know even the basics of alchemy. According to him, it was...

"...a science, I guess?"

Ed could not believe the irony. The man who _invented_ alkahestry. The famed _Western Sage_ of Xing. The man who had his family house's library filled to brim with books about alchemy and any related science, books which lead him and Al to learning about it in the first place…

...he knew absolutely _nothing_ about it at this point.

How was this Ed's life, again?

"Whatever. I might as well show you. You see this pebble, right?"

Ed began to show him the gold transmutation. Perhaps it wasn't exactly beginners material, but why not? It was certainly cooler than transmuting a carving out of wood. Ed wasn't above showing off to his new roommate.

...Except Ed miscalculated, _again_ , because Van freaked out so hard he actually _fainted_.

"Hey! _Van!_ Are you alright?! Come on, don't pass out!" Ed grabbed his shoulders and tried to wake him, to no effect. "Argh, what have you done, Ed you idiot! Wake up, Van!"

Ed sighed, inwardly cursing himself more. How had he _not_ seen that coming? The old couple on the road had completely lost it, too. Maybe it was a cultural thing? Was gold transmutation a taboo in Xerxes or something? Or just so incomprehensible to them, their minds couldn't handle it? He hated _not knowing_ these things, dammit!

Resigned to deal with the consequences of another dumb, impulsive decision, he lifted Van from the ground. Fortunately he could carry a person without breaking a sweat, thanks to his automail – Winry's work was really something special.

"Come on, kid. If you have to to rest, don't do it on the floor."

He took him to the closest free room. It could be his room from now on, he supposed. It wasn't... well organized yet, he hadn't gotten rid of all the stuff the family left behind (he had too much work with the plumbing for a thorough cleaning), but he supposed it was in an acceptable condition.

Hopefully. He didn't remember if Hohenheim was a clean freak…

Ed frowned at the thought. There was a lot about his father that he didn't know, wasn't there?

As he put him down on the bed, he stared down at the teen, wondering. Without thinking about it, he swept the couple off unruly hair-strands from his forehead. Hohenheim of his earliest memories was a towering figure, cold and distant and untouchable. It couldn't be further from what he was now. Looking at him in this moment, he seemed so… small. Fragile.

Van Hohenheim was really just a kid, wasn't he?

"What am I going to do with you?" he said softly.

Edward really had no clue what he was doing. Why did he think it was a good idea? He was totally going to mess this up.

But… he didn't regret it. Not really.

* * *

He wasn't the type to sit around idly, so he decided to go back to his own room and start making a shopping list. He hadn't been planning shopping in advance before, but then again, Van was going to need a regular eating schedule, and they should proably eat meals together. Because socializing with others was important, or something.

_Look, Al, I'm being **responsible**. How about that?_

After being done with that, he visited the basement to change his clothes (he didn't like wearing Xerxesian robes all they, they still felt so _weird_ ) and made detailed notes of everything he had learned today – about Roshan, the Homunculus, Xerxesian culture, slavery… as well as Van Hohenheim.

_Stifled creativity. Suppressed individuality. Used to being ordered around rather than making independent decisions. Doesn't seem to get human equality. Dislikes being called stupid, or a child, or a girl. Easy to ruffle up. Scared by things he doesn't understand._

The last one could be a problem. If Van too firmly set into his way of thinking, then… there wasn't anything Ed could do. He wasn't going to force his beliefs down his throat. But maybe even then, it wouldn't be too bad. Just because he wouldn't participate in Edward's main research, doesn't mean he wouldn't be willing to help out sometimes.

Just having someone around… made Ed relax, for some reason. Even the evening air wasn't as stifling as usual.

Shortly after he organized the notes about Operation Homunculus and returned to his room, Van Hohenheim appeared at the door. That was a close call, he thought. Van wasn't supposed to know about the basement – he had his automail stuff there, and a bunch of other things that were difficult to explain. He would have to be careful from now on, so Van wouldn't find out about it by accident.

Van gawked at him in the entrance, probably because of his clothes. Oh well. Ed wasn't going to give up on his outfit anytime soon, even if it was a little bit hot. It was one of the few things he had left that were _familiar_. A shame he couldn't just wear the tank top. But there was absolutely no way he could explain to Van what automail was, without telling him he was from the future.

"Are you going to come in or what?"

Van jumped in surprise of being caught staring, embarrassment painting his face red. Ed grinned at him in amusement.

"Feeling better?" Van nodded.

"Good. You scared me, kid, you were out for so long I thought you died of a heart attack or something." Even though he was joking, Ed had no idea how long people usually stayed unconscious after fainting. It was a reasonable concern.

Van winced. "Sorry." He tugged his ponytail in a nervous gesture. "I, uh… that was… stupid."

"You bet." Ed walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder like a child. "If I had known you'd act like such a sissy, I wouldn't have bothered showing you that trick," he said just to tease him. It worked like a charm.

"H-hey, I'm _not_ a sissy! Look, I was just surprised! I've never seen something like that before, and..." he trailed off.

Ed raised an eyebrow. "What? Spill it out!"

"How… How did you create gold, Ed?"

" _With alchemy_. I thought you paid attention."

"I know, but- but that's impossible!"

"Why is it impossible?" Perhaps Ed was enjoying this a little too much. But Van's expressions were just so funny.

"Because… because only _gods_ can do things like that! You're not a _god_ , are you?"

Oh Truth, _why_. Ed facepalmed and moaned in despair: "Nooooo, not _you_ too!"

So it _was_ a cultural thing. It explained so much.

"What do you mean, 'not me too'?"

Ed related the story of his first encounter in the past. Having his enemies piss their pants, because of what he was capable of? That was awesome. Having civilians regard him as some sort of deity? That, he couldn't stand. It reminded him too much of Liore and Father Cornello. People fawning over him out of superstition was _annoying_.

"If you ever try to do that I swear I _will_ turn into a demon and knock your teeth out," Ed told Van, meaning every word.

"Okay, I won't bow if you don't want me to," Van responded, baffled by the request.

"Good."

"C-can I ask you something?"

"Only if you wipe that floppy look from your face."

Van stood up straight, to show how serious he was. Ed nodded back at him, to show he was paying attention.

"Could you show me some alchemy again?"

Well. That was a surprise.

"What, wanna pass out one more time?"

"I won't pass out!" Van insisted. "Listen, I was unprepared the last time! Now I know what to expect and it won't affect me anymore!"

"Why do you want to see it again?" Ed asked, curious.

"Because… Because… it felt like **_f_ _reedom_**."

Okay, that was more than a surprise. Ed was honestly stumped by the response.

" _What?_ "

"It felt like freedom," Van explained, and as he continued, Edward's entire perception of him shifted right before his eyes. "I didn't know what it felt like before. When you told me I'm a free man this morning… I didn't really know what to think of it. I don't understand what it means, what is it like, what is expected of a free man or if it's better for me. But… when I saw that light, it was like seeing all those possibilities, dreams I never had because I was not allowed to..." Van swallowed. "If I learned more about alchemy, maybe… maybe I could get to know… me… I don't know. Does it make sense?"

Ed had it all wrong. God, he couldn't believe how wrong he had been.

Van wasn't lacking in creativity. Van wasn't scared by things he doesn't understand. But he had been suppressed. The difference between this teenager and the man he had been in the future – it wasn't just the horror of Xerxes having been destroyed. Ed had discovered his passion for alchemy the moment his mother looked upon his first transmuted creation, and smiled with no tears in her eyes. Van experienced a similar thing today, when he saw the sparks of blue and felt _freedom_.

He had potential. Of course he had – he had been the Western Sage once for crying out loud. Ed kept thinking that it was ironic, but the truth was, Van hadn't been given the chance to grow yet. He was but a sapling, previously kept in the dark. But he could grow, and reach heights people wouldn't dream of. Edward could see it in his eyes now – the hunger for knowledge, the desire to learn more, to keep growing. _Just like Ed._

The first time around, the Homunculus nurtured that desire, before turning on him and using him for his evil scheme, betraying their friendship and breaking Hohenheim's trust. But Ed… he had a chance to make it right.

To hold someone's fate in your hands so closely… it was scary. But Ed didn't hesitate. He charged at his opportunities head-on, not letting his doubts and worries cloud the goal at the end of the road.

Van wanted to be an alchemist? Then Ed would turn him into _the most goddamned **amazing** alchemist_ that the world had **ever** **seen**.

"Van Hohenheim!" Ed looked him straight into the eyes. "I, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, swear to teach you and make you a **_real alchemist_** , if it's the last thing I do!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Author's note:
> 
> Ed: It's not like I care about him or anything, b-baka.
> 
> Me: Ed.
> 
> Ed: Alright, maybe I do. But only because Al would have been upset with me if I didn't!
> 
> Me: Edward Elric.
> 
> Ed: I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> Me: Psst! Ed! You know that thing, that you're doing?
> 
> Ed: I guess he'll need three meals a day, huh?
> 
> Me: It's called an adoption, Ed.
> 
> Ed: I can't hear you, I'm too busy planning a healthy diet for my roommate
> 
> Me: *sighs in resignation*
> 
> I just can't with this boy. I'm telling you, even though I'm technically the one writing him, he has a mind of his own – Ed is in so much denial, I swear.
> 
> Sorry that it was mostly recap. I just felt it was important to have Ed's point of view of this part. The next chapter is going to be more juicy with plot, hopefully. The Homunculus is finally going to appear, and not as a flashback!
> 
> Oh, and Edward's breakdown is coming. The first one, that is. The almost one at the market doesn't really count. Although I'll probably go through the other ones, too. There's gonna be a lot of angst, unfortunately. See, Ed, this is what happen when you bottle up your emotions!
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment, add to favorites and follow if you can, but most importantly – read on and enjoy! :D


	12. A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward finds a new outlet to cope with his grief. A wild Homunculus appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Author's Note" at the end, instead of "Original Author's Note" means that this chapter, ladies and gentlemen, was actually POSTED instead of RE-POSTED from my fanfiction account. That's right! This is a fresh chapter, straight out of the oven, everyone! I really hope you like it! :)

Eiliar first met his future beloved the day he turned sixteen.

While birthdays usually weren't a particularly celebrated occasion in Xerxes, even among the nobility, there were three instances in a young man's life when they had significance. First, there was "elevation" – when a boy turned twelve. If a crime, for example theft, was committed by a child before elevation, then his parents were responsible for settling debts. Elevation meant a boy was no longer a child, but an adolescent – and in the eyes of the law, he was old enough to be held accountable for his actions. Also, while parents usually taught family craft to their children since early childhood, only after elevation were boys officially apprenticed to either their fathers or other assigned mentors, usually relatives. Elevation mattered greatly in slave trade as well – there was a huge difference in prices between children before and after their elevation.

...For the slaves themselves however, the milestones didn't really matter. After all, they were given work the moment they learned to walk. No one cared if they were of age.

But it should be noted that "elevation" was not the same thing as "coming of age" – which was when an adolescent turned sixteen. Coming of age meant adulthood in the most conventional sense: that a young man was ready to marry. Although that differed between men and women – the latter didn't have an elevation. The female equivalent of coming of age happened when girls turned fourteen, marking both their accountability by law, and the generally approved age of consent.

However, even though sixteen technically marked the day when boys became men – able to start their own families and financially support them – in practice it rarely meant complete independence. Why? Because the rocky period between twelve and twenty was what elders succinctly called, "the age of madness". Simply put: teenagers were thought to be too rowdy, rebellious, but most importantly distracted by the opposite sex and thus deprived of any common sense. To avoid having such volatile individuals occupy respectable positions, the elders of the royal council declared that no man should be allowed to have full control over their inheritance – be it position, land, servants or other possessions – before reaching the age of twenty. Traditionally, Xerxesians called that milestone "crowning": because it was the minimal age for a royal to take over the throne of Xerxes (unlike in their neighbor countries, like Xing for example, where that bar had always been much lower).

And so, there were only three birthdays which mattered to a young man in Xerxes: elevation at twelve, coming of age at sixteen, and crowning of adulthood at twenty. And the fact that Eiliar met Ava the day they both came of age? It was no coincidence.

Eiliar had, unfortunately, lost his father before his elevation. Before the man could teach him anything about his future responsibilities. Since that time, he apprenticed under Councilman Rayan – his uncle on his mother's side, as well as his father's.

Their family tree was... well, kind of convoluted. Not through inbreeding – incest had been a huge cultural taboo for centuries, not even the royal family could get away with it... at least without a humiliating scandal. Eiliar's situation was uncommon, but still within honorable customs. The gist of it was this: Eiliar's grandfather, Kata, and Rayan were first cousins through their fathers. Rayan's father, Artaphernes, died when his wife was young, so she later remarried and had a daughter named Maya, Rayan's half-sister, unrelated to Kata by blood. Kata's only son, Alexandrius, eventually married Maya – who was close to him in age, despite being one generation older – and together they had Eiliar.

Tragically, Rayan lost his own family around the time Eiliar was born. As a man racked with grief and loneliness, to avoid giving into despair completely, Rayan took up the responsibility of personally mentoring his nephew. Being one of the few relatives Eiliar had left, he was the only one who was able to teach him what he needed to know, in order for young Eiliar to one day take over the position in the royal court left empty after Alexandrius' death.

As a young boy, Eiliar had always been an eager and idealistic, almost to a fault. He loved and admired his father greatly, and he kept the man's principles close to his heart for many years. He valued Xerxesian laws and traditions highly, wishing to go beyond simply obeying them: he aimed to be a model citizen. Eiliar made sure to do right by his late father's servants and workers, he studied as hard as he could, and like his ancestors before him, he dedicated all of his work to Mithra, the patron god of rising sun, lawfulness, covenants and leadership. And to honor his devotion to Mithra, at the sunrise of his coming of age, Eiliar made a vow of chastity. Suffice to say, it was an unusual choice for someone of his standing, especially for a man in the midst of his "age of madness".

Uncle Rayan had been aware of Eiliar's intent. Eiliar made it perfectly clear to his uncle that he would not only wait for marriage, but probably delay finding a wife as well – he had a lot of work planned for the next decade, and he didn't wish to neglect his future family because of it. So imagine his surprise when uncle Rayan showed up at his doorstep with a young female slave accompanying him, the councilman cheerfully declaring:

"I brought a gift for you, my boy! Isn't she lovely?"

"Uncle Rayan!" Eiliar loudly exclaimed in protest. Then he remembered himself, and bowed his head. "Forgive me for raising my voice, Uncle. But tell me, what is the meaning of this?"

"You still lack a personal servant, dear nephew," Rayan explained with a humorous gleam in his eyes. "There haven't been any additions to your household since your father's passing, am I correct? They're all at least twice your age. So I thought you would like to have a younger servant to keep you company."

"But, but..." Eiliar stuttered helplessly. "Why a girl, Uncle?" he asked, glancing at the tiny slave, bowing to him respectfully. He had no idea what to do with her. He'd never been in charge of a new servant before, let alone one so young – and a girl on top of everything!

"For you to have a lovely face to look upon, of course!"

Eiliar looked at him in disbelief. "Surely you jest, Uncle Rayan. That cannot be the only reason."

Councilman Rayan sighed, his voice taking a more serious tone. "No, it is not. There are several reasons, actually. But," he began smiling again. "It doesn't make that argument any less valid. You need to spend more time with people your age, my boy."

"I suppose..." Eiliar said, reluctantly. He could admit, he wasn't a very social man; generally, he preferred the company of books over the company of people. But, he understood that being involved in politics meant being involved socially – as much as he didn't like it, he couldn't avoid it forever. "I am grateful for you gift, Uncle Rayan," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "But please, share your wisdom with me, for I fail to understand your reasoning."

Rayan hummed, like he always did when he expected him to figure something out for himself. Eiliar looked upon the girl thoughtfully.

"She appears quite young," he observed. "She's a virgin, isn't she?" A very expensive gift: virgin women where one of the highest bidding slaves on the market.

"Indeed. She came of age today, just like you."

Eiliar frowned heavily at his Uncle. "Yet you've known that I would declare a vow of chastity on this very day."

In the corner of his eye, he saw the girl look up in surprise. Did she understand what that such vows meant?

Uncle Rayan laughed, deeply amused by something. "My boy, that is exactly why you need someone like her around!"

"What do you mean?" Eiliar blinked in confusion.

"My poor, naive nephew." Uncle Rayan shook his head in slight disbelief. "Surely you realize your vows would have little substance, if you spent most of your time locked away in your chambers? True resilience," he looks at him meaningfully. "Grows through trial and perseverance. In the near future, how many ladies do you expect to try and tempt you into breaking your vows, hmmm?"

Eiliar flushed pink in embarrassment. He could see what Uncle Rayan was getting at. Now that he came of age, someone of his standing would no doubt soon become a common target for seduction, from both noble and common families.

"You mean, her role is to..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Test me for... untoward advances?"

Once again, Uncle Rayan laughed at his naivety. "Dear boy! I thought I taught you to be observant? Take another look at her."

Eiliar blinked, and turned to the slave in question. Only then did he notice that her hands were shaking.

"What's wrong-? Um, what is your current number?"

"Five, Master Eiliar. Forgive me, Master," she responded, bowing her head lowly. "I am simply... nervous."

"You have nothing to fear, Five," Eiliar reassured her. "I treat all my servants fairly, as long as they do honest work."

"I know, Master," Five replied, her voice so timid it was nearly a whisper. "I believe you, Master. Please forgive your servant. I shall serve with everything I have." Despite her words, her hands were still trembling.

"Have you ever seen such a fragile blossom?" Rayan said with a surprisingly soft expression. "Can you even imagine her attempting to seduce you?"

The girl turned red and swallowed nervously, making the answer obvious. She was only fourteen after all, and obviously very intimidated by both of them.

"No, Uncle. But you intend for me to get used to the company of women, correct?"

"Now that you're of age, it's not unusual for a young man such as yourself to have a personal servant, especially a pretty young lady. It will make you less of a target for, as you put it, untoward advances. And I trust you to treat any gift from me with utmost care?"

"Of course!" Eiliar was nearly offended that it was even a question.

"I thought so." Rayan smiled in relief, then began explaining. "I noticed this lovely girl yesterday on the slave market. My cleaning staff is getting old, you see, and I needed to purchase an extra pair of hands. When I came across her, she was shaking like a leaf in the storm."

"Please forgive me for disturbing you, Master Rayan," the girl spoke up so softly it was barely audible, bowing even lower to the Councilman.

"I told you it was alright, Five. As it happened, Cadmael was there as well, and he seemed interested in making a purchase of her."

"Councilman Cadmael?"

"The very same." Rayan had a dark look in his eyes. "That man has a... reputation, for what he does to his servants. _Especially_ virgins." He shook his head with a deep sigh and continued: "I felt pity for her, so I managed to get in line before he did. However, putting her among my cleaning staff felt like a waste. And then I thought to myself: who would treat such a fragile flower better than my own nephew, one of the most honorable young men I've ever seen?"

Eiliar blushed from the praise. "Thank you, Uncle. I see now. You are a kind man, Uncle Rayan."

The man waved his hand. "I was just in the right place at the right time. In any case, I think this arrangement can work out nicely, don't you think?"

"Yes, I think so." His previous reluctance was gone. If there was anything that motivated the teen, it was a challenge to upkeep his duty. "I understand your wisdom now. I shall keep my vow in spite of trials, and I will treat my new personal servant with the same kindness you showed her."

"Good." Rayan put a hand on Eiliar's shoulder. "You make your father's memory proud," he told him, solemnly. Eiliar beamed at him with happiness.

"Thank you, Uncle Rayan."

And so, from that moment on, Five was Eiliar's personal servant. Though the number didn't stick around for long.

"Oh, I almost forgot. You have to be given a new name," he informed Five later, after she was settled in.

"...A name, Master?" she asked shyly.

She was adjusting quickly, showing that there was more to her than just fear. But while she no longer shook at the sight of her master, she was still very timid and soft spoken, more than any person he had ever met before. Eiliar understood well why his Uncle had felt compelled to help her. She was such an innocent little thing. Harming someone so delicate would be against any decent man's instincts.

"I know it's unconventional. It was my father who started the tradition years ago. He wasn't very fond of numbers," Eiliar smiled, recalling one of Uncle Rayan's stories. Apparently in his youth, Alexandrius hated algebra with a passion, so one day he permanently 'banished' it from his home by giving all his numbered servants actual names. It became a popular tale among the court, often mentioned for the sheer amusement of it. "It shall officially mark you as a member of this household."

"Master." As always, Five spoke up so quietly he almost didn't pick it up. "I live to serve you. So I beg you to forgive your servant, if she steps out of line to ask..."

Eiliar looked at her in curiosity. "Do you have a request in mind?"

"Yes, Master Eiliar." She reached beneath her tunic, and pulled out a small wooden necklace. "I was told this has a name written on it: Ava."

"Does it?" Eiliar blinked in surprise. Now, _that_ was interesting. "May I see?"

Hesitant, she took it off and handed it to him, as if afraid she wouldn't get it back. Eiliar saw that she was correct: the name carved on the smooth piece of wood indeed spelled out 'Ava'.

"Where did you get this?"

"It's been in my possession for as long as I can remember. I don't know why, but I was allowed to keep it."

It was most unusual for slaves to be allowed a childhood possessions – even more than a slave having a name.

"Perhaps you were sold young under the condition that you would be allowed to keep your name?" Eiliar wondered aloud, though that wouldn't make much sense. Slavery usually meant giving up all independence. Letting a child keep a memento with a name implied some sort of favoritism, but a favored child wouldn't normally end up sold.

"I wouldn't know, Master."

What an intriguing mystery.

"Well, I don't see any reason to take it away," he said as gave the accessory back. " And if this is the name you wish to claim in my household, it is henceforth accepted. You are no longer to be called Number Five, Ava."

She bowed deeply, thankful. "Thank you, Master Eiliar. You are most gracious."

"Your gratitude is well received, maidservant Ava."

It was truly no hardship for Eiliar, to keep Ava as his personal servant. As she grew more confident and secure in her position, she became a pleasant presence to have around. Truly, Uncle Rayan had known what he was doing, Eiliar thought to himself on numerous occasions. And over time, he began to appreciate her for far more than just her hard work and loyalty.

It all culminated when one evening, Eiliar was struck by a revelation, no less shocking than a bolt of lightning from a clear sky – yet as soft and soothing as a partridge feather caress.

"Master. It is late," Ava spoke to him with concern. "Will you retire for the night?"

"Just a moment, Ava. I have to finish this," Eiliar replied without turning his eyes from the parchment, frustration and exhaustion apparent in his voice. His father had been right all along, algebra was the worst kind of evil.

"Please, Master. You shall have a clearer mind in the morning," she told him gently, yet firmly. It was surprising how far she had come, from the slave too afraid to look him in the eye, to someone bold enough to argue with him, for the sake of his well-being.

"I only have one equation left."

"You've been at it for the past half an hour, Master Eiliar."

"I'm almost done."

Ava sighed deeply. Then she told him:

"...It's 726, Master."

Eiliar froze, shocked. "What?"

"The answer is 726, Master Eiliar."

"How do you know that?"

"You forgot to square the eleven, Master."

Eiliar read the whole equation from the beginning. Ava... appeared to be correct.

"Ava," he said slowly. "Since when can you read?"

The servant girl hesitated.

"I... have been able to read since before I came here," she admitted a little fearfully.

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I thought... I wasn't allowed to," she said, bowing her head. "I learned by watching the overseer at the slave market, back when I was a little girl. He always spoke to himself while he was writing."

Eiliar couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You learned to read... just by watching?"

"Yes, Master."

This was unbelievable. Ava... a slave girl, younger than him by two years, with no education whatsoever... was literate. And she learned entirely on her own.

"What about algebra?" he asked. "How did you learn that?"

"By watching you, Master. And..." She quickly lowered her head and confessed: "Forgive me, Master Eiliar, I swear I never touched any of your books. I just... looked at them whenever they were open. That is all."

By now, Eiliar was openly gaping at her.

"Ava. You are speaking the truth?"

"Of course, Master. I would never lie to you."

"You must be a prodigy!"

The servant blushed, bashful. "I am no prodigy, Master."

"What are you talking about? You learned reading and algebra without any tutor! That's incredible! I don't think I ever could have done something like that."

"You think too highly of me, Master Eiliar. I am but an ordinary slave."

Except she wasn't, as Eiliar realized. Not in the slightest. And that discovery... not unlike a tiny pebble thrown into a pond, causing ripples to spread on its steady surface... slowly started to turn the cogs in his brain, and before he knew it, Eiliar's perspective on the world shifted to such degree it became almost unrecognizable.

The young nobleman who had devoted himself to uphold the laws and tradition since early childhood, the one who had wholeheartedly believed that the social order was righteous, that the gods themselves put it in place for a reason... Eiliar began to doubt.

Because what was the difference between a noble and a slave, exactly? What made the former better than the other other than the circumstances of birth? Why was the latter considered inferior? Who judged them so? Eiliar wondered.

For in a world where people where people were rewarded by their true merit... perhaps a person born among commoners could rise above the richest of nobles, thanks to nothing but the strength of their mind.

* * *

Whoever said that it was easy to be a teacher was either lying, an idiot, or a combination of both, Edward Elric decided.

Because he had never been so frustrated in his life as he was right now, trying to explain a single, simple, two-syllable word to his brand new student.

"Sensei," Ed spoke as slowly and clearly as possible for umpteenth time. Hohenheim just stared at him with blank incomprehension.

"Sa...ey…?" he tried.

Ed prayed for patience. "Again."

"Seney."

 _How?_ He wondered in despair.

"No. _Sensei_."

"Sen-sen?"

_Just, **how**?_

" _Sen_. _Sei_."

"Sa Say?"

And Ed finally lost it.

"AAAAAARGH! How hard can it be to pronounce _one simple word_ , you colossal idiot?!" he blew up, throwing his hands in the air.

Van puffed up like a very offended bird. "Who are you calling an idiot, **shorty**?!"

Ed responded appropriately: "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PATHETIC LITTLE RUNT SMALLER THAN A GRAIN OF SAND DIVIDED BY A THOUSAND?!"

"I give up." Hohenheim mimicked Ed, putting his arms up in the exact same way. Edward inwardly wondered if the other teen would begin noticing the similarities between anytime them soon. "I'm just going to call you 'Master'."

Ed refused, annoyed and disgusted in equal measure. Van asked him why.

Why? _Because it's_ _ **creepy**_ _?_ "Because I don't like it!" he replied instead.

"Why is that, Master?" Van grinned like the cheeky brat that he actually was, under all of his innocent-puppy guise. It reminded Ed of Al so much it was almost scary.

Ed tried to focus on their nonsensical argument to avoid that train of thought. " _Stop_ calling me that, my name is _Ed_!"

"Alright, why is that, **Master Ed**?"

"Quit it!"

Van just laughed, as if there was anything even remotely funny about the implication of slavery, and repeated the question.

But, how could Ed even begin to explain it? To Van, who was still someone's property less than 24 hours ago? Who considered slavery a completely normal thing?

"I feels _wrong_ , alright?"

"Why?" the cheeky brat kept asking.

"Because, you're not a _slave_ , got it? And _I_ definitely do not owe you."

 _I don't want you to serve me,_ Ed wanted to say. _I don't want you to bow and cower in fear that I would hurt you. I don't want you to consider me the kind of person who would_ _treat_ _you like that._

( _I don't want you to stay just out of obligation,_ was the quietest thought he immediately squashed down.)

Van seemed under the impression that Teacher and Master meant the same thing. Ed tried to explain. That respect towards a teacher and obedience towards a master were two different things.

"That's not true! All slaves respect their Masters," Van protested, as if offended on behalf of his fellow servants. Ed couldn't believe his ears.

"Did _you_?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, of course I did!"

Ed's heart sank as he stared at Van's bandaged arm. "You respected Roshan even after what he did to you?" _Did you think you... deserved_ _it_ _?_

"Um… well, yes..." Van hesitated.

"How _can_ you?"

Why _didn't_ Van hate his old Master? Ed spent a single afternoon in the man's presence, and he could already tell he was sleazy and corrupted as nobles can come. Roshan was a greedy, self-absorbed prick with no empathy or respect for others – not to mention he was a murderer. He reminded Edward of General Raven that way. The Royal Alchemist was just as bad as Central higher-ups. Ed had been tempted to clock him over the head at least several times during a single conversation.

But, it appeared Van didn't see the man like that. Ed had no idea how that was possible. It's not as if Roshan acted benevolent to his subordinates, if his treatment of Van and his assistants was any indication.

"It wasn't a big deal…" Van said, and rage boiled under Edward's skin. "Just a cut."

Ed tried to make him see reason as tactfully as possible: "He **hurt you** for a selfish reason and didn't ask you for permission."

"Permission?" Van repeated the word as if it was a completely foreign concept. "He was my Master."

"See? **This** is exactly what I'm talking about!" Ed furiously exclaimed. Then sighed as he realized the root of the problem. "Such blind obedience."

Hohenheim fell silent, looking at Edward as if he was speaking a whole other language. Ed tried to get through to him with utmost earnestness:

"Do you truly believe he had any right to do that to you, Van? Do you really think that you deserve such treatment? That _anyone_ does? Do you think people should treat each other like objects?"

Van didn't respond, but Ed didn't expect him to.

"I think I'm starting to understand," Ed said to himself thoughtfully. "It seems freedom is something I cannot give to you, not by myself…"

_I'm going about this all wrong, aren't I._

He couldn't just _tell_ Van that he was a human being who deserved respect and make him believe it. It didn't work like around here. This wasn't Amestris. This wasn't Ed's home.

Edward could preach human rights till his throat got sore, but it wouldn't change a damn thing. In Xerxes, slavery was the norm. Van had been raised to believe he was a tool to be used by other people. And while Ed's intentions might have been noble on the surface, he was hardly any better, because he was using Van too. Not like Roshan or the Homunculus did, but it didn't make it any less true.

Because Ed was selfish and lonely. Because he basically forced Van into a situation where the only reasonable option was staying. Ed might have given him the _illusion_ of freedom, but did someone like Van was even capable of making a use of it? He might have jumped at the idea of learning alchemy from Ed, but if he did it under the assumption that they were going to have a slave-master dynamic again...

Ed wasn't qualified for this. He was the worst person in the world to try and fix this.

Al would have been so much better at this.

 _But Al's no longer he_ _re, isn't he?_ A dark voice hissed in the back of his mind. _And whose fault is_ _ **that**_ _?_

Van said something, but Ed could no longer hear him. As if in trance, Ed stood up and turned to the window.

The stars were visible and bright that night. Sometimes when staying in big cities, Ed had missed the sight of stars above him, the quiet of the countryside. But right now, he missed the overwhelming glow a modern street filled with electrical lamps. He missed the roar of car engines, the smell of gasoline. He missed crammed city blocks and restaurants with greasy fast-food. He missed the obnoxious automail shops of Rush Valley, the disgusting public restrooms of Central City, claustrophobia-inducing military offices at the Eastern Command, and all the things which used to annoy him to no end. He missed Amestris so much his chest ached with it. But most of all, he missed his brother.

His brother, whom Ed as good as murdered today... because his actions erased his existence.

"Um, Ed?" Van spoke up. Ed looked at him without seeing, his mind far away.

"It's late. You must be tired. You should go to bed."

_I need to be alone right now._

"What about you?"

"I have more important things to do." Ed said blankly. _You're dismissed, Van. Please, just_ _ **go**_ _._

Without any further delay, Van stood up and left the room. Ed listened until his footsteps faded away completely, waited a minute… two... and then he crumbled to the ground, falling on his knees.

Blindly, he started tearing off the bandages wrapped around his automail. It didn't matter how badly he ripped them, he always transmuted them to fit tightly around his arm, kind of like an irremovable glove. When he finally got rid of them all, he stared at his metal hand – at Winry's very own craftsmanship.

 _I loved her,_ Ed admitted to himself for the first time and his throat tightened as if he was being strangled. _I_ _ **loved her**_ _and I promised her I would make her cry tears of joy..._

But Winry would never cry for him again, not for joy, and not for any other reason. Because Winry was gone, too. She died on the Promised Day.

_"_ _We_ _'_ _re gonna stop them, Winry. Al and I are gonna be home, before you know it. Have an apple pie waiting for us, okay?_ _"_

He lost her.

_"I'm not running away! You cant just send us off like that! I know you want to protect us, but you need to try and **save everyone!** "_

_"I'm going to do everything I **can** do to stop it, but there's a chance **it might not work!** "_

_"I don't want to hear any doubts from you! ...Please, Ed. Just tell me you're going to **stop them and save the country**..."_

He failed her.

Everyone was dead. Except for him.

_I shouldn't be here._

Distantly, he realized he was shaking. Ed pressed his limps so his automail hand, muffing a pained whimper which somehow managed to escape him in spite of his efforts to keep quiet.

_I shouldn_ _'_ _t_ _**be here.** _

Suddenly, he remembered a conversation he had with Al, after they decoded Dr Marcoh notes about the Philosopher's Stone.

_"You know... We try so hard to grasp the truth, but it always slips away. And now that we have actually have caught it, turns out the truth is too dangerous to hold. I'm starting to think this is God's special way of torturing people who committed taboos._

_I wonder... if it will be like this all our lives."_

It was getting difficult to breathe.

Edward frantically opened the hidden trapdoor to the basement. He rushed down, stumbling like a drunk. He pulled out his silver watch, clapped and transmuted it open, staring at the inscription.

_Don't Forget  
3\. Oct. 11_

And then, at the recent addition – smaller and barely squished below it.

_Remember  
27 July 00_

His flesh hand tightened around the watch so hard it began to hurt. Another choked sound escaped his throat.

_What have I **done** , Alphonse?_

So much was lost. So much time, so many precious moments, all wasted. Thrown away. Erased.

Reduced to nothing.

"What do I do?" He heard his own voice asking without realizing he was about to speak aloud. "Al, what the hell do I _do_?"

He shouldn't be here. Someone else, _anyone_ else should have taken his place. Edward should have joined his brother in oblivion.

He couldn't help but think he would have been grateful if that were the case.

 _Was this how he felt?_ He wondered, his fingers pulling painfully at the hair on his scalp. _Was this how Hohenheim felt_ _in that moment_ _, when all of Xerxes disappeared in a single night?_

Ed wanted to howl. He wanted to rage and scream in pain for the world to hear. He wanted to quietly wail and weep his heart out. He wanted to hide even deeper in the ground, he wanted to bury himself miles below the surface where he would never have to see the light of day. He wanted to stop existing, like he deserved.

He wanted his brother.

"No one else remembers you," Ed whispered in horrified realization. "No one will even _remember you._ "

That couldn't happen.

His eyes stinging like crazy, Ed grabbed a stack of blank pages he kept around for research, and started writing.

* * *

_Xerxes, July 11th, year 1476_

_My name is Edward Elric. I am 16 years old and I was born in Resembool, Amestris, on February 2nd, year 1899. None of which_ _has happened yet,_ _and never will_ _after this_ _._

_I don't belong in this time. In fact I shouldn't exist anymore, because it's certain that my parents will never meet now, no matter how things turn out. I'm not sure what will become of me. But from what I know, I don't think that I'll disappear in the future even though it's already been altered._

_I have no intention of making excuses for myself: I know the past shouldn't be meddled with. I have no right to play God with the fate of the world. I know that what I've done can be considered unforgivable. It's not even the first time I committed a taboo. Although after we committed human transmutation, I fully believed it had cost me and my brother everything. But I'm starting to realize that Truth always finds a way to make the toll higher: because this time I lost so much I honestly don't know how I could possibly lose anything else._

_Today, I had to make a decision and choose the lesser of two evils – I ultimately decided to try and change what once was, and now that I have done it, I have no power to make it undone._

_What did I do? I single-handedly erased over 400 years of history and an entire nation of over 50 million people, that's what. Now, I am the only thing left from a future that will never happen._

_I guess I should start from the beginning..._

* * *

He wasn't even sure who he was writing this for. Van, maybe? But, it hardly mattered. He just knew he had to write everything down, to document all that happened in the previous timeline.

_"You were hiding the memory."_

Because right now, the only place where Al still existed was his head. His memories. One day when he was no longer around, there would be nothing left of him. And his brother shouldn't be forgotten. None of them should be. Not Al, not Winry, not Mustang and Teacher and everyone else... The people of Amestris should have a chance to survive in at least one way: a way which Xerxes had been denied, when Hohenheim ran away and left behind nothing but a ghost story.

_"You didn't want to be reminded of what you've done…"_

In a way, Ed could understand. But at the same time, the mere thought of letting them fade away to nothing like that was unforgivable – even more so than tampering with time.

_"...you thought you could erase the memory by destroying the evidence."_

Hohenheim's words at the graveyard echoed painfully in his head.

This was his punishment, wasn't it? Fitting. His life had been nothing but a long series of punishments for his arrogance.

First for playing God and attempting Human Transmutation. Then for trapping his brother in a cold, metal prison, and giving him false hope that the two of them could become whole again. Then for seeking out the Philosopher's Stone, thinking it would magically solve all of their problems. Then for joining the military for his own purposes, entangling them both in a conspiracy that would ultimately lead to Alphonse's murder and the destruction of Amestris.

_"_ _You ran away,_ _and you know it._ _"_

And lastly, for thinking he could fix the past without paying a steep price.

"I'm sorry, Al," he choked out, finally giving in to the tears he shouldn't be shedding, the tears he didn't have the right to be crying but in that moment, that one moment of weakness, he couldn't help it. Because Al was gone, and his absence left a gaping, bleeding hole in Ed's heart. In a way, it was more painful that all of his automail surgeries and being impaled combined. "I'm so sorry, brother. If you can-" He sobbed roughly, rubbing his eyes. "If there's a chance you still exist somewhere, if you can hear me somehow… Please, please forgive me..."

After he finished the letter, damp and smeared with regret, he started writing down names. First, all the people from his hometown. Then the officers at the Eastern Command. Then the people at Central. And in the South. And West. And North. And from Xing.

Time flew by as Ed wrote down the names of every single person he could remember, but it still wasn't enough. He knew it would never be enough…

...Because the list was missing over 49 million people.

So he started writing down people he didn't know by name, but still recalled, however vaguely. Their jobs, physical descriptions. Random vendors, drivers. Soldiers he never spoke to but saw around the Eastern Command. Librarians. Mechanics from Rush Valley. Teacher's shop customers. That one girl Mustang took on a date. That old lady with the really weird cat which looked a lot like May's pet.

Hours later he still wasn't satisfied, but he knew he still had to make notes of all the events that took place the previous day and encode them in his travelogue. He might have taken Hohenheim from the Homunculus' reach, but it was only the half of the success. He had to get to work, no matter how torn he felt.

He broke down in tears a couple more times, and each time he felt worse, but there was nothing he could do about it. The morning was coming soon, and he had to get over himself by the time Van woke up. The thought that he could try getting some rest didn't even cross his mind. After all, he knew that only nightmares would await him.

Honestly, someone like him deserved nothing less.

* * *

_My mother's name was Trisha Elric. She was born in 1878. My younger brother's name (crossed out "is") was Alphonse Elric. He was born in 1900. My father's name is Van Hohenheim. I don't know when he was born. I'm guessing late 1450s. His age is related to the reason why everything happened this way._

_Originally, Van Hohenheim was a slave and worked for Xerxes' royal alchemist, Roshan. I still don't know the details, but the bastard played around with human transmutation and by having his assistants perform it to keep himself from harm, he somehow managed to create an artificial being called a Homunculus – using Hohenheim's blood. The Homunculus possesses knowledge from the Gate of Truth, a dimension you can only access when you commit the taboo. I know the Gate exists because Alphonse and I tried to bring our mother back to life. Suffice to say, we failed._

_If anyone ever reads this, you should know this: do not EVER attempt human transmutation, under any circumstances. It cannot be done. The dead cannot be brought back, there is no price for a soul that had passed away. And even if there were... the price of even a failed attempt is too high. Believe me, I would know._

* * *

When the silver watch showed it was almost five in the morning, Edward finally crawled out of his cave to start getting ready for the new day. Putting his Amestrian clothes away, he dressed in his proper Xerxesian attire. Then he reapplied the bandages on his artificial limbs, carefully making sure no metal showed. He would have to pay special attention to that, now that he had Van living with him. One slip-up and there would be a lot of questions to answer to, and Ed really wasn't ready to explain. He didn't know if he would ever be ready.

It wasn't like he planned to conceal the truth from Van forever. Just… for now. The whole story was honestly too crazy to be believed from a stranger. And there wasn't exactly a sure way Ed could prove himself to be Hohenheim's son. Sure, he could show off his automail as evidence, but… for crying out loud, Van didn't even understand the basics of alchemy yet, how was he to recognize future tech? He was more likely to accuse Ed of being a demon again than believe that he was from the future.

He needed to show he was reliable, first. Ed and his stupid issues could be addressed later. What Van needed right now was a mentor, not a messed up future son, with a ton of emotional baggage and sins crawling on his back. Despite hellish upbringing, Van still seemed so damn innocent. He shouldn't have to be burdened by Edward's problems. He deserved to know the pressing part, about the Homunculus created from his stolen blood, but… the rest could wait.

By the time Van showed up at eight, Ed managed to regain his composure and was ready to face the new day, wearing a smile that almost felt sincere.

* * *

Andal felt... bitter.

One would think that he'd feel happy, now that Twenty Three was gone. The other teen had always annoyed him. But Andal got Twenty Three's share of chores since his absence, and he was far from happy about it. Not only did that smug bastard got singled out by some arrogant noble (why Twenty Three? What was so special about him?), now Andal had to clean up after him. Man, he hated him so, so much.

And yet…

There was a small, tiny part of him that also felt… mildly concerned. What would happen to Twenty Three now? Andal overheard some of the conversation between Master Roshan and his guest, and it was… a bit unsettling.

_"I've been experimenting with blood lately... Would you mind selling me that slave? I was thinking about getting my own anyway... I'm sure he's strong enough to be useful to me."_

Would Twenty Three be… alright? Master had already taken blood from him, recently. What if Twenty Three's new Master took too much?

No, Twenty Three was a stubborn piece of work. He wouldn't die from something so small as some occasional bloodletting. Right? He seemed perfectly fine before.

(Andal carefully avoided thinking about how with Twenty Three gone, Master Roshan's attention might be directed elsewhere soon. He hoped not.)

Andal finished sweeping Master's laboratory, unaware of something silently observing him through glass. As he exited the room, he passed Seven in the hallway. He was about to continue on with his own work as usual, when suddenly, the old woman swayed and collapsed.

Andal stopped in surprise, staring for a moment. She tripped? He never paid her much attention before, and Seven might have been a mute, but she usually wasn't clumsy. She had more experience than most servants in the mansion. She shouldn't have fallen for no reason.

Then Andal noticed that she wasn't getting up.

He ran towards her, calling guards for help.

The Dwarf in the Flask watched.

* * *

_In the past – timeline, I suppose – the Homunculus was made by the order of the king of Xerxes, who wanted to achieve immortality. So he told the king; hey, want to live forever? No problem, all you have to do is to sacrifice your country's whole population and create a Philosopher's Stone! Sounds completely REASONABLE, right?! And of course, like an idiot, the king decided – why the hell not? Let's trust this totally NOT shady creature with this totally sane plan and sacrifice the ENTIRE KINGDOM I'm supposed to rule over! It's not like my subjects are feeling, living HUMAN BEINGS worth anything! What a brilliant plan, absolutely nothing can go wrong!_

_Unfortunately for that sucker – and everyone else – the Homunculus had his own plans. He never intended to make the king immortal. He made it so when the Stone was being created, he and Hohenheim were the ones standing in the middle of the circle, not the king. From what he told me, Hohenheim knew nothing about either of the plans. He was horrified when he realized he had the souls of half the country trapped inside of him – the souls were split evenly between them. The Homunculus did that supposedly out of "gratitude" for his blood. I will never understand the twisted kind of thinking you need to consider something like that a gift._

_So, Hohenheim became immortal. He ran away from Xerxes and went to Xing to the east, becoming a so-called "Western Sage" and inventing alkahestry - an art of transmutation through something called Chi, used mainly for healing purposes. Meanwhile, the Homunculus went west, becoming "the Eastern Sage" and spreading the art of alchemy, originally from Xerxes. He made seven more Homunculi, each named after a deadly sin – his "children". They called him "Father", which was the name I knew him by when I first met him. He also created an entirely new country by the name of Amestris. My homeland._

* * *

Spending the first whole day with Hohenheim – with Van – felt surreal. Especially after last night's… episode.

Van was so different from what Ed would have imagined his father at this age. He was so bright, so enthusiastic about ordinary things. He paid such close attention to everything Edward was saying, and showed so many emotions he might have as well been an open book. He was lively, snappish and sarcastic at times, but so very young and full of wonder.

Van Hohenheim was still a child, in a way Ed wasn't since his mother died. And the realization shook him.

Even so, the day they had together was… fun. They tried food neither of them had before, and just like yesterday's soup, Ed discovered that meals shared with Van didn't taste like ash and guilt, like whenever he ate alone. They were definitely going to share as many meals as possible.

They exchanged some friendly banter – mostly centered about their smarts and their height – and Ed told Van some things about his journey to Xerxes, and the bandits he encountered on the way. Van expressed doubts about his fighting prowess, and Ed proved him wrong by handing his butt to him. He also won a bet and Van had to admit that Ed wasn't short.

It was awesome.

As hours passed, Ed realized he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time. It almost felt like… like a something familiar had been returned to him. Not a lot of it, a small, tiny sliver at best, but still. The feeling reminded him of being back in Resembool. It reminded him of being at Teacher's house. It reminded him of being with Al.

It didn't connect until the evening was setting, but that feeling… it was the feeling of being **home**.

And just like that, the guilt returned in full force.

What the hell was he even thinking? He and Van weren't _family_. Not really. They were roommates. Barely acquaintances. Not even _friends_ yet. Van didn't know the truth about who Edward really was. If he did, their relationship certainly wouldn't be so light and easy as it was.

With a sudden clarity, Ed realized that if Van knew the truth, he would hate him.

He wasn't even able to explain to himself why he was so sure of it. It just made sense. Ed failed everyone who had ever relied on him. He caused 50 million people to have their souls ripped out of their bodies, and them erased them from existence. He let his own brother die. His hands were stained with blood – even if he never intended to kill anyone, it was true.

But despite all of that… Right now, Van needed him. To teach him about alchemy, and about the world. And Ed needed Van, too. He was his only anchor in this place. And even though he probably should, Edward wasn't ready to let him go. Not yet, at least.

Eventually, Van would learn everything he needed from him. He would become strong and independent. And when that day came, Edward would tell him everything… and Van would leave him behind, without looking back.

It might have been selfish of him, but Ed hoped that day wouldn't come too soon.

* * *

_In year 1915, there was an eclipse directly above the center of Amestris. The Homunculus used it to finish what he started, once again sacrificing an entire nation, only this time on a much larger scale. His plan was to use the energy to open the planet's Gate, gain "powers of a god", and rip the fabric of time, so he could travel back to the beginning of the world and rule over everything. And I was there, right in the middle when it all went down._

_There were five "sacrifices" needed for the plan to work – each an alchemist who had seen the Gate of Truth at some point. Two of the sacrifices were myself and my brother Al. The third was Hohenheim, who had his Gate opened on that day in Xerxes. Another was our Teacher, Izumi Curtis. She tried to bring back her baby after having a miscarriage. She was like a second mother to us. The last was Colonel Roy Mustang, who was (crossed out line) one of the only people in the military whom I trusted. He was forced through the Gate of Truth by one of the Homunculi – Pride._

_After Father's transmutation was complete, Pride_ _(crossed out_ _section_ _)_ _murdered my brother in front of me. And I didn't do anything. I was just standing there. It happened so fast. I think I was in shock. Now I keep dreaming about it, about that moment. I should have been the one to die there, not him. It's my fault he's gone. I'm sorry Al_

_(_ _section too blurred to read_ _)_

* * *

That night, Ed tried to get some sleep. The exhaustion was starting to get o him and he hoped he could at least get a couple hours before inevitably waking up from nightmares.

He did get sleep. Almost three hours of it.

His dreams changed. Instead of Alphonse's death playing on loop in his brain, it was like getting tossed into the Gate again: memories flashing one after another, all involving Al in some way. From his childhood to getting his watch to the Promised Day. That time they were attacked by Scar for the first time, that time they got beat up by Teacher, that time they met Ling, that time they fought the Freezing Alchemist, that time they showed mom their alchemy…

...and of course, Al being killed by Pride was the memory that snapped him out of sleep again.

Ed breathed deeply to calm himself, grateful more than ever that he almost never screamed while having nightmares. Al could always tell when he was dreaming, because he didn't sleep himself and looking at his brother's face was enough. But Ed, he rarely made so much as a peep no matter what.

It was a good thing. He wouldn't wake Van.

Left with many hours until dawn, Ed went down into the basement and continued his project.

* * *

_I'll just finish this up quickly._

_When Father was about to travel back, I would have fallen from the blast of it if someone hadn't grabbed me. I should mention that one of the Homunculi, Greeling (a convoluted mix-up of an idiot Xingnese prince named Ling Yao and Homunculus Greed), was our ally against Father. He grabbed me and pushed me into the middle of the reaction. I found myself back at the Gate. I didn't see anything, but I heard the Homunculus... being stripped off of his powers, I guess. Then Truth showed up and told me since the toll for time travel was already paid and all my existences guaranteed, I could choose to go to any time I wanted. But only once._

_I didn't plan on coming HERE. To 1476. I said, "I want to go to a time and place where the Homunculus can still be beaten". I meant sometime before the eclipse in 1915. But I guess Truth always screws you over no matter what your intentions are._

_I could have just let history repeat. I could have let Hohenheim stay a slave at Roshan's mansion. I could have let the Homunculus kill everyone again. But... what good would that even do? It wouldn't save my country anyway. Amestris is GONE. Everyone I know and love is dead. Everyone._

_I couldn't let it happen again. I can't watch another country die like this. I can't._

* * *

The next day, Ed was going to visit Roshan again. He felt the familiar mix of tension and anticipation, like he felt before going on a particularly dangerous mission.

Operation Homunculus had began.

"Ah, Edward! Come in, come in," Roshan greeted him with his false, benign smile.

Ed artfully hid his distaste and schooled his features into a calm, confident expression.

"Good to see you again, Roshan. I hope your business went well?" he went ahead and stole that line straight from Mustang's book. He had never sincerely inquired about someone's business in his life.

"Everything went perfectly smoothly," Roshan lied blatantly, and that actually got Edward interested. Too bad it was the noble's way of politely saying: _None of your damn business._

"I see. Any progress with the Homunculus?" Ed asked, taking a seat.

Roshan sighed. "Not just yet. It's certainly alive and healthy from what I can tell, but haven't shown any signs of consciousness."

That didn't mean there weren't any, Ed silently observed. The Homunculus he heard about was a master manipulator since the very beginning. He could certainly fake sleep if he wanted to.

The question was, why _would_ he fake it?

"May I observe it in person, anyway?" Ed said carefully, inserting just enough curiosity to seem perfectly innocent. "This is the first artificial life-form in history. Even unconscious, it will be fascinating to see with my own eyes."

"Why, of course! It's located in my lab. Perhaps we will be able to witness its awakening."

Ed followed Roshan to his lab – the fake official one, no doubt. There wasn't enough room on the floor to make a Human Transmutation circle, and he couldn't see any traces of chalk… or blood. This might be the room where Roshan kept most of his research materials, but it couldn't be the one where he did his experiments.

He nearly stopped when he saw a round flask on the desk, with two symmetrical tubes and something still and black inside it.

_This is it. It's **him**!_

He was… small. Man, when he was called the _Dwarf in the Flask_ , apparently it wasn't a hyperbole.

For a split-second, Edward was tempted. To just go to hell with it and smash that flask, right then and there. For what the Homunculus had done to him. To Xerxes. To Al and Hohenheim and all of Amestris.

But he couldn't. Not just because Roshan was there… but because Ed still valued life above anything else. He couldn't be careless with it, and he didn't have the right. No matter how he felt, he had a plan, and the Homunculus' death was not an option if he wanted it to succeed.

He kept his steps steady as he came closer.

"Amazing," he spoke in the most bland, fake tone ever, but somehow it slipped past Roshan who was too absorbed by his own observations:

"Yes, the shape might be simplistic, but any more complicated designs all failed miserably. A sphere is a much easier shape to sustain with regular maintenance. For that reason it has a single eye as well."

Ed kept asking questions about the Homunculus and his anatomy, making notes to show he was invested. But in truth, there was only one thought occupying his mind: _How is he_ _still alive_ _like this_ _ **without a Philosopher's Stone**_ _?_

It made no sense. By all accounts, an artificial life-form shouldn't be able to survive like this, even with the maintenance Roshan was describing. It should have starved by now, or poisoned itself with toxic substances in its blood it had no way of expelling.

Unless…

_"Our bodies might be connected somehow, even though I'm here, and your body is over there..."_

Roshan was a moron, Ed realized in disbelief.

Sure, he had known that before, but… this was _sheer stupidity_. How did this man not realize it?

It wasn't the fresh blood that made the experiment successful. It was the fact that **the source of it was alive and well**. The Homunculus was literally only alive because Hohenheim was acting as his life support. If Van were to die, so would the Dwarf in the Flask.

And Roshan obviously had no idea, because if he did, he would have _never_ given up Van, no matter how much gold Ed offered.

 _This_ was the greatest alchemist in Xerxes? _Are you_ _ **serious**_ _?_

Ed's expectations might have been a bit unfair, this country was over 400 years behind Amestris in terms of scientific discoveries, but Ed had known more than this guy about alchemy and biology _when he was ten_.

And somehow, by some crazy stroke of luck, this utter idiot managed to create the very first Homunculus in history.

"...but as a source of knowledge, it will be the most useful tool for further discoveries about the nature of life…" Roshan senselessly babbled on in the background.

Edward wanted to bang his head against the wall. How was this his life, again?

Just, _why_?

"If you don't mind," Ed finally interrupted, utterly done with everything and especially Roshan "Would you permit me to stay and observe it for an extended period of time? You can go through the project I brought you in the meantime. I'd like to make some sketches, and I think complete silence will be highly beneficial for my concentration."

Roshan paused, apparently uncertain if he was being insulted or not, being dismissed from his own lab by his own assistant. Ed kept his expression perfectly polite and innocent the whole time. Finally, Roshan must have decided Ed didn't mean offense (even though he totally did), since he accepted the offer.

"Very well… What kind of project is it?"

"Theory for cotton transmutation," he replied smoothly.

Roshan blinked in surprise, visibly impressed. "Indeed?"

It was, and it wasn't at the same time. Cotton transmutation was complicated enough to be considered advanced alchemy by the State's standards. It wasn't anything unheard of, only uncommon. Ed had practice with it by constantly fixing his coat on the road, but most people would prefer to either stitch holes by hand, or just buy a new coat. There weren't enough military applications for it to be a popular practice, even though it was a handy skill to have.

While Edward _could_ have just handed Roshan a paper explaining cotton transmutation in perfect detail, he decided to instead write it down in a complex structure that would not only confuse him, but also take him a lot of time to understand, but in a way that would make Roshan to embarrassed to ask for clarification. The theory was also ever so slightly incomplete, so Roshan wouldn't get much out of it without his help anyway.

In other words, the project was designed not only to buy Ed time, but also flex his skills and subtly humiliate Roshan's.

Ed resisted the temptation to grin.

Roshan skimmed over the first paragraph. "Interesting," he muttered, nodding to himself as if he understood it with perfect clarity. _Faker._

He took the papers with him, presumably to his office where he had that fancy upholstered chair to sit on, exactly as Ed has hoped… leaving him alone with the Homunculus.

This time Edward did nothing to hide his savage grin.

"Rise and shine, asshole." He spoke to the Dwarf in the Flask in a low voice, his eyes glinting with danger. "I _know_ you're awake, Homunculus."

* * *

The Dwarf in the Flask was intrigued from the moment he laid an eye on him.

The assistant who entered the lab with the old fool was someone he was unfamiliar with, someone new. He must have been hired recently. But that wasn't what piqued his interest.

It was his face.

It was so close, and yet… it was not him. This was not the face of the man who gave him blood. But he was very similar in appearance. Perhaps a brother, or a cousin?

Did that make the two of them related, he wondered?

While the old alchemist bragged about his "achievement" – as if the cretin had even the slightest idea what the Dwarf in the Flask actually was – the assistant was silent. Focused entirely on _him_.

There was something… slightly unnerving about the stare. The Homunculus didn't know why. It wasn't fear, and it wasn't fascination, either. It was as if the young man knew exactly what he was looking at and wasn't impressed in the slightest, yet still paid him utmost attention, completely ignoring his mentor's lecture.

It was the first time anyone ever looked at him like that.

The Homunculus was officially interested.

Then something even more unusual occurred. The assistant practically ordered the man out of the room, claiming he wanted to sketch the Homunculus in silence. There was effortless authority surrounding him, and despite being the one in power, Roshan actually listened. And as if _that_ wasn't surprising enough…

"Rise and shine, asshole. I _know_ you're awake, Homunculus."

...the assistant saw right through his act.

Oh. _Oh_ , this man was _interesting_.

The Dwarf in the Flask opened his eye wide, meeting the golden irises.

"Hello," he purred in amusement.

For a second, the expression in the young man's eyes changed. There was a flash of shock, and… anger?

Hm. How curious.

"So you _were_ faking sleep," the assistant said flatly, unsurprised.

"So I was," the Homunculus admitted with no shame. "But I wonder how you could have known that."

"I didn't. I guessed."

"Huh."

A bold one, wasn't he?

He liked it.

"And yet, you sent your mentor away instead of telling him…" The Dwarf in the Flask twirled around playfully. Finally, someone interesting to have a conversation with! "You wished to speak with me in private, am I right?"

"Brilliant deduction," the assistant told him in a dry voice.

"Then introductions are in order, yes? What's your name?"

The young man closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"My name is Edward Elric," he said slowly, with utter seriousness and a certain grimness the Homunculus couldn't make sense of. "The Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Fullmetal? Like, made entirely of metal?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, that is what _fullmetal_ means," Edward responded with sarcasm.

"Why call yourself 'fullmetal' then?"

"I'm not telling you."

Ooooh, a challenge!

"Alright," he tells him with a tint of amusement suggesting he would figure it out eventually. "I am the Dwarf in the Flask, Homunculus."

Edward opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then stopped, as another thought occurred to him.

"...Are you really going with that? That's all you'll ever call yourself?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Well…" There was a deep frown on his face as he considered something he apparently didn't like. "'Homunculus' is just _what_ you are. It isn't a name."

"So?"

"Don't you want one? A name, I mean?"

The Homunculus paused.

"Why would I want one?"

"All humans-" Edward cut himself off with a flinch and corrected himself: " _Most_ humans have one. And those who don't… well, it's mostly for a really crappy reason."

The Homunculus heard the implication loud and clear:

_Those who don't have names are **slaves**._

For some reason, it really offended him.

"I am not human," he replied, audibly irritated. _That doesn't apply to me._

The Fullmetal Alchemist raised an eyebrow in skepticism. He disagreed?

"You have a soul, don't you?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do."

"If it's not a _human_ soul, then what kind of soul is it, then? A 'Homunculus' soul?" He put his chin on bandaged fist, the other hand waving at the side of emphasize his point. "How's that different from a human one, exactly? As far as I'm concerned, it's the soul that determines identity, not the body. Otherwise I could make a puppet and call it human, but it won't do any alchemy for me, now will it?"

The Dwarf in the Flask paused, honestly stumped.

In therms of power and structure, his soul wasn't really all that different from an average human soul. Yes, its origins were unique, and his knowledge was above that of any man, but it was still strictly based on the soul of the assistant who died in the transmutation to create him. A _human_ assistant.

So, in conclusion, since his soul was of human origin… it was basically the equivalent of a human soul.

Was he… was he just proven wrong about something?

_Did Edward just **outsmart him?**_

A small giggle escaped him. Then another. And suddenly, he was laughing.

Edward blinked at him with confusion.

"You… you really are something, Edward Elric!" The Homunculus exclaimed with glee as he laughed for the first time in his existence. "I never thought I'd get to meet someone as interesting as you!"

For some reason, Edward didn't seem to take is as a compliment.

"What, is that why you pretend to sleep around Roshan?" he asked with irritation. "Because he's boring? Or because he's stupid as a rock?"

The Homunculus hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, you are correct about that. But mostly, I was waiting."

"For what?"

"I'm glad you asked! Do you perhaps know someone who bears a striking resemblance to you? I hoped he lived in this building, but he doesn't seem to be here anymore. Do you know what happened to him?"

And just like that, Edward's posture was tight like a string, all traces of banter gone.

He seemed almost… protective.

_Hmmm… Definitely related, then._

The Dwarf in the Flask felt smug, his theory proven right. Edward Elric was his relative through the young man who gave him blood.

He didn't mind. No, he didn't mind _at all._

"So you _do_ know him. Would you mind telling me his name?"

Edward stared at him for a long moment, silent and intense. The Homunculus had no clue what he was thinking.

"...How badly do you want to know?" he asked, finally.

He narrowed his eye at him. "Oh, I see. You want to make a bargain?"

The Fullmetal Alchemist nodded, putting his fingers together. "Yes. I do."

"I am listening, Edward Elric."

* * *

Ed exited the lab, heart still pounding from the confrontation between himself and person responsible for the complete genocide of his people, twice over.

The Homunculus had been too agreeable. It put Edward on edge. A monster like him _shouldn't_ be capable of being so genuinely friendly. Not if he was willing to sacrifice a million people without a second thought. Ed thought that he would try to charm him, to deceive him right away. When he spoke to the Dwarf in the Flask, he expected a liar, a manipulator. But that wasn't what he found.

Oh, the charm had been there, alright. And should Ed have been gullible, he would have tried to trick him without a doubt. But his motives were so terribly, incredibly transparent, he could hardly call them manipulative. The Homunculus wanted someone interesting to challenge his intellect, and he wanted to meet his "blood brother".

He also wanted to get out of his glass prison.

_"Why?! I just wanted to be free! **Free to know!** "_

Lust for power was hardly the core motivation here. I was more of a side effect to the pursuit for freedom and understanding of the world.

Ed hardly failed to notice the irony of encountering yet _another_ soul stuck in a body he didn't want to be in.

He couldn't promise all of that to the Homunculus. But unlike Roshan, he could offer most of it. And he took full advantage of it.

Operation Homunculus was in progress at full speed.

As he entered the same office he had his job interview in two days ago, he saw several people enter at the same – accompanied by guards, just like he had been. Was Roshan having another meeting?

But then he noticed just _who_ they were, and Edward froze in surprise.

"Master Roshan," the eldest of the group spoke with a short bow, respectful but with dignity. "Blessings upon your household."

They were _Ishvalan_.

What were Ishvalans doing in the house of the freaking Royal Alchemist? Didn't Ishvalan people hate alchemy?

Roshan hadn't seen him yet, so Ed stood back, too curious to interrupt.

"What is your business here?" the alchemist asked with thinly-veiled contempt in his voice.

Oh. Roshan was racist. Well… it wasn't like Ed hadn't hated the man already, so he was hardly shocked by the information.

"We have a request to make, Master Roshan, but we promise to make it worth your time."

Roshan sighed as if the fact he was listening to them at all was already too big of a concession from him. "Very well. What is your request?"

"Over a year ago, you bought a mute female slave from the household of the late Councilman Farhad, is that true?"

Roshan straightened up in attention. "What is it to you lot? You Ishvalans seem opposed to the practice of slave trade."

Hold on, Ishvalans were _abolitionists_? And so far back? Alright, Ed hadn't known that. That was definitely a huge plus in his book.

"You see, Master, this woman is a faithful practitioner of our religion. She has belonged in our community for over thirty years."

Roshan lifted an eyebrow in something between amusement and disbelief. "Even if that were true, what of it? She is my property now."

"For the past thirty years, we gradually collected offerings from everyone in our community. Last week, we finally gathered the number of darics equal to a talent's weight of gold, the established price for a young slave in Xerxesian market. Master, please have mercy. The woman is old. She won't be able to work for you for much longer. If you allow us to purchase her, you can replace her with a new, younger servant in your household. And we will spread the word of your graciousness, praying for your providence."

Edward was stunned by what he was hearing.

The old lady – the one who warned him of Roshan killing his assistant. They were talking about her. She was of Ishvalan religion. He hadn't even known Ishvalans accepted outsiders into their faith. She had been a member of the Ishvalan community for over thirty years. And they cared about her so much, they had been collecting donations for all that time, just to set her free.

There were… some really amazing people in this world. He had forgotten, that people like that were around – had always been around, apparently, even so long ago in the past.

Just as he was about to feel happy for her, Roshan ruined it all:

"That is of no concern to me. I don't care about your prayers, or your pathetic money. Number Seven is my property and you have no right to her, regardless of religious practice... if she's even capable of it, which I very much doubt."

Okay, now? Ed was pissed. His automail fist creaked as he clenched it in anger.

"Besides, I don't think your Ishvala cares very much for cause. After all, number Seven fell gravely ill this very morning. Suspicious timing, no?"

_Wait a second, **what did he just say?**_

"She's ill?" another man from the group spoke with worry and dread.

"Indeed," Roshan's voice was filled with malicious satisfaction. "Deadly fever, I'm afraid. Why, I'll be surprised if she lasts a week. So you can keep your money, and use it for a better investment."

Fever. The woman was sick, and- what? He was just going to let it kill her on purpose? Why would he- wait.

Mute slave. Human experiments. The final, successful experiment, and an old slave who had outlived her usefulness.

Ed processed it all in a second and decided that no, despite suspicious timing, he probably hadn't poisoned the woman or anything… because if he wanted to execute her, he could have just done it for an imaginary crime and be done with it. But the illness probably wasn't a complete coincidence, either. Roshan probably overworked her on purpose, hoping it would happen sooner or later.

_Oh, that **son of a…!**_

There was no way Edward was going to stand by and just let this happen. _Especially_ not to the first person in Xerxes who showed him kindness.

(Not to the same kind of illness that took his _mother_ -)

Having made up his mind, the Fullmetal Alchemist stepped in, just as the Ishvalans were about to argue and probably doom all the chances of saving miss number Seven.

"Master Roshan, if I may interrupt?" he said with forced calmness, adding up the 'Master' to soften him up.

Roshan blinked in surprise at the sight of him. "What is it, Assistant Edward?"

Okay, so _that_ was how they were supposed to address each other in front of other people. He hadn't known that. Lucky shot, then? If he had called him 'Roshan' in front of people he didn't like, he probably could have kissed his plan goodbye.

"If you could send them out for a moment, I have a proposition you might like."

Roshan seemed intrigued at Ed's sly tone.

"Is that so? Guards, escort the _Ishvalans_ outside."

Yeah, _definitely_ racist. He was going to use that.

"If I heard correctly, they want to... purchase a mute slave from you, right?" Ed barely forced himself to speak the phrase, but managed not to stutter, leaving nothing more than a slight pause between words. (He still felt slimy just for saying it.)

"Yes, you got the gist of it."

"But you have no intention of letting that slave live. You wanted her to get sick, right?"

Roshan's eyes and mouth widened in shock. "How did you-?"

"Please," Edward rolled his eyes. "It was easy to figure out. An old, mute slave working for an alchemist? She probably saw the final stages of the Homunculus project. She knows too much to let her live, even for a mute. And overworking a slave until they get sick and die of natural causes is a lot less suspicious than simply executing her, and it leaves your reputation spotless."

There was apprehensiveness entering Roshan's expression, and while it was satisfying to see, it was not beneficial to his current plan, so he quickly tackled on:

"I understand completely. I would have done the same thing, after all," Ed lied so hard it was a miracle his pants didn't violently catch on fire.

At that, Roshan relaxed again – just as intended. "...I see great minds think alike, then."

"Of course," he said with a straight face, as if he hadn't just called the man stupid as a rock in a previous conversation. "So, here is my proposition. Those _idiots_ are willing to pay you solid money – for a slave that is probably going to die soon anyway."

The Royal Alchemist frowns. "You aren't suggesting I actually accept their offer?"

"Kind of," Edward grins his most evil, cunning grin (entirely inspired by the image of beating the man in front of him into a bloody pulp). "You see, when your _kind_ , _compassionate_ assistant heard their plea," he said in a tone that implied exactly the opposite "He decided to _help_ them to the best of his abilities. He is a talented alchemist who can create experimental substances, after all, and he might _just_ come up with a cure for this _poor_ , ill woman."

Roshan's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Oh, I see… you want to experiment?"

"I literally _just_ got myself a new servant. I expect him to be of use for a long time – of course I'm not going to try anything risky on him... _yet_. I can't just test everything I want on a single person."

"Why would you want to use a sick person, though?" Roshan asked casually, as if they were discussing the weather and not human lives. _Sick bastard._ "Won't the end results be skewed by the illness?"

Crap. He hadn't thought of that.

His mind buzzed in searched for a believable excuse.

"Of course, it has to be an ill person!" He bluffed. "That's the whole point."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to test actual medicine."

Roshan was once again shocked. "You've been trying to invent a _medicine_?"

...Well, well!

Once again, Edward stumbled across something exploitable by complete accident.

"Not just one medicine, Roshan. I have several in mind, all alchemically produced. If I test them all, I can see which one works, but an overdose will definitely kill her. Then I can tell them _I've done all I can do,_ " he rolled his eyes theatrically. "And if we're lucky, there will be another benefit."

The old bastard, who seemed to like Ed's 'plan' already, tilted his head. "What _other_ benefit?"

"Well..." Ed inserted all the fake racist contempt he could muster into his next words: "You do not believe _Ishvalans_ know how to take care of the diseased properly, do you? They are dirty, stupid desert people who think prayer can solve anything."

Roshan nodded, as if Edward just described them perfectly.

(Ed couldn't believe the man was buying _all_ of his bull-crap. He was really speaking from the top of his head. Either his acting skills were that phenomenal, or the man was really that much of an idiot. He'd bet it was the latter.)

"With luck, they will catch the disease themselves and spread it among them. I can misdirect them to some extent. They're really bringing it onto themselves, after all." He shrugs with a smirk.

"Hm…" Roshan thought for a moment. "There is still one problem. I already refused them, quite strongly. They will be suspicious if I suddenly change my mind for no apparent reason."

Bastard. Ed almost gritted his teeth in frustration, but stopped himself at the last moment. He was _so close_...

"I suppose I _would_ go along with it, if I were given some additional financial compensation..."

 _Greedy_ bastard. But good enough.

"Tell them I offered another talent of gold. I'll pay you a fifth."

"Half."

Ed narrowed his eyes in a show of reluctance. "Fourth. No more."

"Third, then. I am being extremely generous, Edward."

"Fine, then."

"We have a deal."

A deal to save a kind woman's life, from a terrible death she did nothing to deserve. Yes, Edward would have taken it, even if he were to pay ten times more.

But from now on, he had a role to play. At the start, he portrayed himself to Roshan as an ambitious, selfish, bastard genius who perhaps thought too highly of himself. Now, he was playing an ambitious, ruthless, racist bastard genius, who was willing to experiment on sick elderly and wished innocent people death. He couldn't afford to ever slip up after this, because even a glimpse of actual human decency could destroy Roshan's trust in his character. Ed should probably feel disgusted with himself, but after everything else he went through, this almost felt too easy.

After he was through with Roshan though, he was going to ruin him. How, he hadn't decided yet, but Edward would make sure of it. This man would pay for everything he had done, and everything he was willing to do for his sick games.

* * *

Once they invited the Ishvalans back in and 'explained' the 'deal' between the two of them (which was actually much closer to the truth than Roshan believed), the men began profusely thank Ed. This had to be the worst part, because he could tell their gratitude was heartfelt and genuine, but with Roshan watching his every move he couldn't even receive it properly, and instead of acting like someone trying to do a good deed, he had to act like a bastard _pretending_ to be doing a good deed, who was on top of it all, racist and supposedly hated these poor people's guts for no reason. Just how twisted was that?

Wanting nothing more than to leave this awful place, went with the Ishvalans right away to see miss number Seven. What Edward saw next, would haunt him for weeks.

Apparently, since sick people were not allowed in the so-called servants' sleeping quarters (which, from what Van told him, was nothing more but a cold, empty room with a bunch of hay on the floor) she had been moved… to the stables.

And no, not some nice, clean corner with a bed made of hay and a wet compress – like, you know, _decent people_ would do. She was half-covered by manure, flies covering her body, her breath so weak she almost seemed like a half-rotted corpse dumped in garbage.

Ed nearly threw up when he saw her.

But the Ishvalans were slightly more resilient, and despite their broken hearts and distress brought on by the terrible sight, they dug her up with barely any disgust. Later, Ed would think back on it with admiration and consider it a kind of strength to admire.

As soon as they were done, he knelt by her side and touched her forehead to check the temperature. She was burning.

This was bad. So much worse than he feared.

"She needs a bath," he said with a tremble in his voice he couldn't quite get rid of. "We have to clean her up and lower her temperature... If she's been like that since morning, this could be very, very bad."

The group exchanged worried glances. "We can make a stop at the river."

"Okay," Ed whispered, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Okay, okay."

Suddenly, something was lightly touching his left hand.

He looked down, and much to his shock it was Seven, reaching out to him. She was conscious, even though just barely it seemed. With the tips of her fingers, she managed to touch his hand twice, despite the awful tremble in her arm.

Ed ward struck by the memory of her patting his hand in comfort, and his face twisted in pain for a second as he realized: she was trying to comfort _him_.

He _had_ to save her. He had to.

"You will be okay," he told her, and he forced a smile on his face. "We will take care of you, alright? You won't return here ever again. You're free now." He grasped her hand gently, ignoring the filth it was covered in. "You're _free_."

And in spite of her fever she must have understood, because here eyes filled with tears, and for a short moment before she lost consciousness again… she smiled.

* * *

There were four men in the group. While the eldest Ishvalan was probably too old to join and help carry Seven to the river, they had more than enough people to split tasks among them. Ed sent the self-proclaimed fastest runner to the market to buy some things. Then he transmuted (out of the sight of the others) a stretcher out of an old bag and a couple of sticks, and two of the strongest carried Seven, while Ed explained to the eldest one – who claimed to have a good memory – what they needed to do to prevent the disease from spreading. In contrast to what Roshan believed in his racist bigotry, the Ishvalans had a fairly good grasp of hygiene and basic requirements of preventing illness for this century. Ed was far from a doctor, but apparently what had become common knowledge by nineteenth century wasn't so common right now, so he explained a bit more with a scientific approach (how diseases spread through coughing, fluids and et cetera), and promised to teach them more some other time, since apparently there had been times when they had sick people in their temple, but they didn't always have the knowledge or the resources to help them properly.

When they reached the river, Ed used a stick to draw a circle in the ground and transmuted a bathtub with clean, cool water (which gathered some pretty weird looks, but thankfully the Ishvalans had bigger problems on their heads at the moment). The one which Ed had sent to the market returned, and Ed was able to transmute some soap (which got him even more weird looks, but Ed was becoming a pro at ignoring them). After that, they got Seven clean in record speed and immediately headed to the temple of Ishvala, located at the outskirts of the city.

The temple was a modest building built of stone, similar to what Ed had seen in the capital city of Xerxes, yet there was something uniquely different in the architecture he suspected was entirely Ishvalan. Unfortunately, since he'd never been to Ishval, he had no way to compare. There were about twenty people inside, most of them women, and when they heard the story of what happened from the men, they all became very concerned. Immediately someone ran to get a healer (or something like that, they had their own language so Ed couldn't be sure), a couple of children started gathering blankets and wood for a fire, and some women brought wine and dishes they cooked earlier that day. In a single hour, everyone was involved and joined in effort to help Seven recover.

Meanwhile, Ed sat in the corner, consulting his journal about possible drugs he could try to create to combat the fever. To the contrary of what he said to Roshan, Ed actually _wasn't_ confident in his ability to make a safe medicine with alchemy, and there was a valid reason for that.

In Amestris, medicine was almost never made by alchemists. Sure, in theory, you could transmute various drugs using nothing but _wood_. The problem was, medicine was meant to be _ingested_ , and even the smallest error could lead an ordinary painkiller to become something deadly. There had been numerous incidents when apothecaries sold 'well-tested' drugs manufactured by alchemists, and later it turned out they had harmful side-effects. Medicines made in a lab were much safer and easier to mass-produce, so eventually, alchemical drugs were all labeled as 'risky' and 'unrecommended'.

Teacher shared that belief, and she hammered into his and Al's heads that they should always get medicine from a store, and **never** try to make it by themselves.

Unluckily for Ed, who was now stuck in an era without such stores available, that did very little to help him with creating life-saving medicine for someone who was _dying_ from an unspecified fever.

(Just like _mom_ -)

Ed loudly snapped his notebook closed with a sigh. Should he really try it? He had no proof it was a similar thing. The likelihood of his mom and Seven having the same disease was slim, especially since Trisha had died from a pandemic, and Seven's illness seemed like an isolated incident.

Still, the hemorrhagic fever seemed similar, so there was a chance it might help. It was the one medicine Edward was the _most_ familiar with, and had the best chances of making without error.

After their mother's death, Ed and Al had been obsessed with 'what-ifs' for a while. Because the cure for the pandemic had been discovered and delivered to Resembool a bit too late, they had studied both the disease and the cure extensively, to the point they could have recited encyclopedic details in their sleep. Back then, they excused the obsession to themselves by saying that 'they would know what to do, if mom got sick again after they brought her back'. Now he could admit to himself that it came from a subconscious fear that the disease could take them one day, too.

It was a risk. There was a life of a person involved. If he was wrong, someone was going to die because of him.

( _Again_ , his mind darkly reminded of the moment he idly stood by and watched _as his brother was m_ _ **u**_ _r_ _ **d**_ _e_ _ **r**_ _e_ _ **d**_ _-_ )

But if he didn't try at all, she was going to die for certain. So it wasn't really a choice, was it?

"I'm going to need chalk, some water, sand and wood," he told the nearest person. She nodded and ran to get others.

Ed hadn't done alchemy in front of a crowd in a long time, but he didn't put much thought into it. He ignored the gasps and stares and whispers of awe as he created some clean glass dishes, purified the water, separated the necessary components from wood, and then combined them back together with utmost precision – all in less than fifteen minutes. By the time he was done, he had a full bottle of white ribavirin pills.

He gave them to the healer and told him:

"Give her two pills today, three if her fever doesn't drop."

"Right away?" The man stared at Ed with some unidentified emotion.

"Yes, one right away. Another in a couple more hours, I guess. I will come back tomorrow to check and see. If it doesn't help, we'll try something else."

"Master Edward?" someone said tentatively.

Ed sighed, turning around. "Just _Edward_ , please. None of that Master crap."

The young Ishvalan girl smiled at him, softly.

"Thank you, for saving Amestris."

Edward froze.

For a long moment, he tried to process it, and failed. _Did I just_ _ **hear that correctly?**_

"I'm sorry, w-what?"

"Thank you for saving her," she told him, giving him a low bow. "Our Brothers told us what you did to help us set her free from that evil man. We can never thank you enough for your generosity."

Wait a minute, she wasn't talking about-?!

"You don't mean… miss Seven?" he choked out. "Her name… is _Amestris_?"

* * *

_Did I do the right thing? I just erased history. I got Van away from Roshan. He's not his slave anymore, and he will never become immortal. He won't live to see the 20th century. He will never meet my mother. My brother will never be born._

_I've destroyed my brother's ENTIRE existence. And not just him: Teacher, Mustang, Greed... All the Amestrians who won't exist because there won't be any Amestris. In exchange, I'm saving Xerxes, a country I know nothing about. But what if saving it only makes things worse?_

_I don't know. I'm not sure of anything anymore._

_I'm the one who shouldn't be here._

_-Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Belated Happy New Year to everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked really hard on it. Sorry I took so long, I meant to post it in early January, but then suddenly, I got a job! I was so happy. It's so hard to find a quick job when you're just a college student, you know? Hopefully I can write more, soon.
> 
> Yup, Edward is saving Amestris after all… just not in a way he could have ever predicted.
> 
> Best wishes to you all, stay safe and strong! Read, comment, give kudos and bookmark the story is you can, but most importantly – read on and enjoy :)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a TV Tropes page now!!! Check it out:
> 
> tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/MyMasterEd
> 
> Isn't it glorious?! :'D
> 
> [UPDATE: I received my first ever fanart!! The wonderful artist [cocopots](https://cocopots.tumblr.com/) made an absolutely beautiful [illustration](https://cocopots.tumblr.com/post/639151815178534912/some-fanart-i-did-for-the-very-talented) for chapter 5. Thank you so much!!  
> If any of you are interested in making fanart too, please let me know! It made me so incredibly happy.]


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